The Girl in Question
by littlebatgirl
Summary: Sequel to Uninvited. Reposting as had to remove it, but now its back! The continuing saga of Jack & Amelia. He knows she's alive and will stop at nothing to get what he wants most! Now Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hi everyone. This is a sequel to my first dark knight fan fiction 'Uninvited'. It's a continuation of the story of Amelia West and the Joker. For those of you who have not read 'Uninvited' it might be helpful to read the first story, but if you don't, then hope you still enjoy this!! As always, reviews and any thoughts are very much appreciated!**

**I do not own any character from the D.C comics, just Amelia, who is mine. Its only a shortie at the moment, but there is more coming, I promise! Please, please let me know your thoughts, it really helps. xx**

1st January 2008

_Dear Bruce,_

_Happy New Year!!_

_I was thinking about something the other day. Something that just popped into my head while I was running in the park. Do you remember that summer when we were fourteen and I was trying to convince you that Rachel was madly in love with you? We were practically living at your house and Alfred must have been sick of all the noise we made. You didn't believe me when I told you and I kissed you in front of her to see how she would react? She didn't speak to me for a week after that, but you had your answer!_

_I really miss her sometimes. I think about her a lot, as you must too._

_And I miss you Bruce. That's why I'm writing this letter. It's been six months since I last saw or heard anything from you. I know that was the arrangement that we were always going to be distant._

_I can't stop thinking about what happened the last time you were here. I said some terrible things. But I was in a bad place, Bruce, surely you understand?_

_I had to hear about my Grandma's death from a news report on a Sunday afternoon. She was the last real connection I had to my mother and I loved her so much. I couldn't go to her funeral. I couldn't be with my family. It hurt so much Bruce and when you came that day I lashed out. You're my only link to that world now and I was so angry with everything and everyone._

_I admit now that I was angry with you. I was angry that you put me out here in no mans land, estranged from you, my old life and my father._

_Everyone I loved said goodbye to me at my funeral, while I watched from a hospital bed in Gotham general. I really am dead and buried._

_But I know that you did it for my own good. I know that!_

_And I'm so thankful for everything you have done for me. You saved me and I realise now I was angry with the wrong person._

_You are not the reason I had to go away. He is. And I know that and believe me that ship has sailed._

_I still think about him sometimes, but not in that way. How could I love someone who took my own life into his hands? How could someone like that love me?_

_The truth is he never did love me. I accept that now. I accept that I was just a pawn in his little game and it makes me sick to think that I could ever feel something like love for him. He doesn't deserve love and he is in the right place._

_Life is not bad here at all, you know. I love my job and I can't believe I've only been here a year. One of my little prodigies has been accepted to the Gotham School of Ballet. That was a big thrill for me! I love teaching the little ones, but to see them grow up and develop is truly rewarding._

_We put on regular shows and I have had to make various excuses as to why I can't leave the city. Metropolis just isn't an artsy town, like Gotham and my students keep nagging me to take them to one of the big productions in Gotham._

_I have a few friends here, one of them, I'll call her 'M' as I know I can't tell you her name, joined the school last semester and we have a lot of fun together. We go out dancing nearly every weekend. It's like being a teenager again._

_I'm also seeing someone. Don't pull your jealous face Bruce!_

_Seriously, his name is Nathan and he's great. Its nothing complicated right now, just casual, but I do like him._

_I'm wondering now how you are? And Alfred? I miss you both so much. I miss his waffles._

_It's been so long and I know it is because of the things I said to you. Do you really hate me? Can't you just come here so that we can talk about it?_

_I worry about you and your 'nightly' activities. I hear about you on the news and it breaks my heart at how they tear you apart. All the good things you do for them and they are so blind!_

_Maybe Gotham deserves what it gets. No I don't mean that, you know I don't. You have your reasons that you do what you do and you have more courage than anyone I know. But I still worry about you._

_Please, please call me, contact me or leave me a sign to let me know that you're still my best friend. Its new years after all._

_I'll be waiting. I love you._

_Amelia xxx_

A young woman with long dark hair held a letter close to her chest before slipping it into the mail box that was only two minutes walk from her school.

The woman hurriedly zipped up her coat, right up to the neck, rubbing her arms for warmth. She began to jog back towards the large, grey stone building from where she came.

Her face was creamy pale, small, even features and rosy red lips. One time people might have considered her a real beauty, but she was different now, softer, her face kind and warm.

She reached the school where she worked and hurried inside, waving at someone who joined her on the steps. Another woman, younger and with a mousy brown bob took her arm as they went inside.

The stranger in the car watched them disappear inside and she wound up the window of her grey sedan. Chewing her lip she started the car, swiftly pulling it out of the space she'd acquired earlier. Rain began to settle gently on the windscreen and she reached for the wipers, trying to wipe her face, sticky with tears at the same time.

Breath choked in her throat as she pulled away and she could feel more tears coming.

God _why_ was she here?

She couldn't breathe, let alone see straight, her running mascara was stinging her lashes. Finally, defeated she pulled over and collapsed in a heap over the steering wheel, her body trembling with sobs.

"I can't do this anymore," she spoke aloud, her voice lonely, speaking to someone who would never hear her.

She was speaking to someone who would never listen.

Panic welled up in her chest and she struggled for breath once again, rubbing her chest for comfort.

She could just run. That was an idea. She could take this car and run. It didn't matter that he would catch up with her eventually. She would just keep running.

You could never hide from him. He always found you in the end.

Like the dark haired girl, even she hadn't escaped.

She shook her head firmly. She would never leave him. He never would admit it but he needed her, badly. She was his link to the outside world.

She was going to be his saviour and he would forever be indebted to her.

The woman nodded to herself and wiped her tight, swollen face.

He loved her. She was going to prove it by finding the girl. He had asked for this one favour.

Find the girl and we'll run away together, he'd promised. Find the girl and I will change; I'll take care of you. I'll love you.

She loved him, no question. His love was enough to push away the guilt she felt when she thought of the dark haired girl and what she was going to do to her.

Harleen started the car up again and it roared.

She was going back to Gotham, to tell her lover, the Joker, that Amelia West was alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, thank you to anybody who has read or reviewed! Please, please let me know you're thoughts, I love getting them.**

**I do not own The Joker, Batman or Harlequin.**

**I hate you then I love you**

Harley scrubbed her pale flesh raw under the hot shower spray. She raked her nails through her thick blonde hair, drawing blood from her scalp.

The need to be clean overwhelmed her. The pain from the scratches on her legs as the hot water hit them made her cry out and finally she lid down the shower wall and hit the tiled floor.

With shaking hands she reached for the faucet and ended her agony. After a few minutes of sitting there numbly, she began to shiver. Trembling she crawled out of the cubicle and rolled herself into a towel.

It was always like this, after being with him. The things he did to her were degrading. The acts he made her perform repulsed her.

Was this love?

Harley remembered those first few months of brief sessions at Arkham. She had been entranced then. He was so deep, so intriguing and she had always loved a puzzle to solve.

Before she knew it, she found that she had forgotten his scars, more hypnotized by his dark brown eyes. She forgot who he was and why he was in that place.

She just wanted him. And she got him.

Vigoursly rubbing her sore skin dry she peered out into the bedroom and watched his sleeping form on the bed.

It was so easy for him. He just took what he needed from her and then went to sleep, while she was left feeling used and dirty, her obsessive need to be clean eating away at her until she had to get up and get in the shower.

He had asked her once;

"If you hate me so much, why do you keep crawling back in my cell after hours?"

It was a good question. Hundreds of dollars of therapy, plus a psychology degree and even she couldn't work that one out.

She had risked her career for him and it would only be a matter of time before the hospital realised that it had been her all along, helping him escape.

The last two times had been close but she had managed to sweet talk her way out of it. It amazed her lies she could come up with to protect him. She had never lied in her whole life, always lived life by the book. And now look at her!

Harley perched on the edge of the toilet, suddenly feeling sick.

Out in the bedroom she could hear the low hum of his breathing. On bare feet she padded into the room quietly and stood over him.

It had been a long time since she had seen him in his makeup and the sight of it earlier this evening had nearly terrified her.

He'd been waiting for her in his cell, ready and dressed in his suit. Trembling she had handed him the gun and left him to it. She took her car and drove it to the river and waited. When he appeared an hour later, the sight of him covered in blood, but safe overwhelmed her and she let him have her there and then.

Now they were back here at her apartment, her new apartment above the Narrows that he had instructed she buy two months ago. It was better to have a safer place, somewhere that the cops wouldn't think to look. Also Gotham police would never suspect such an upstanding doctor, like Harleen Quinzell.

But there was always that nagging doubt that they would find out.

_Who needs a job anyway? He'll take care of me._

She had given up her stylish city centre apartment for this damp, mouldy dump in Gotham's sleazy part of town.

_It's not a bad place really, if you don't mind the occasional rat._

She didn't see her friends anymore.

_I never saw them anyway. Besides who needs friends? Who needs a job? He'll take care of me._

_He'll take care of me!_

Harleen perched on the end of the bed, wondering if her weight would rouse him. She reached and pushed a lock of his dirty blonde hair out of his eyes.

To her horror his eyes snapped open and he seized her wrist.

She let out a cry of surprise.

"What _are_ you doing?" he growled. His face was barely covered in paint anymore, from where it had sweated off. He looked like a terrifying child's drawing, badly coloured in. As always his crooked smile snaked up his cheek bones.

"I was just…nothing…"

He chuckled. "Watching me while I slept? You really are a girl aren't you?"

He still had hold of her wrist painfully; he twisted it ever so slightly to make her wince.

"Come here," he breathed and she shivered.

"No, I just showered!"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Clean freak," he let go of her wrist, leaving a red mark.

She stood hurriedly and went back to the bathroom, towelling her wet hair.

Relieved that he didn't follow her in there she began to dress quickly, shivering as she pulled on her night gown.

It didn't feel right somehow, having him here, sleeping beside her, like they were any other normal couple. And yet this was what she had been craving for so long, to have him with her.

She caught sight of her face in the mirror and realised that her mascara had tracked down her face.

She looked like a freak.

She could feel her stomach churning, sickness rising inside her. She went to the bathroom cabinet and pulled out the bottle of sleeping pills. She downed two dry, the medication scorching her throat.

"Harley _quin, _what'cha doing in there?" came his voice from the bedroom.

"Nothing," she mumbled, she hated that nickname. It made her sound like him. Like a clown.

When she ventured back into the bedroom he was sitting up on the bed, his trousers back on, flicking through the channels on the television.

"Batman, Batman," he chanted thoughtfully, "That flying rat's name is everywhere. He gets all the credit for everything in this city,"

Harley raised an eyebrow at him. "Everyone hates him,"

He gave her a look. "Yes, I _know _that. I think its time we gave him some time off. A well deserved break,"

Harley didn't like the sound of that. "What were you thinking? And shouldn't you be keeping a low profile?"

"Hmm….I should, but I get bored and as much as I love playing with you, even you get boring after al while…"

Stung, Harley turned away. "Do what you like then,"

She heard him spring off the bed and felt him snake his arms around her from behind.

He nipped little kisses up her neck, all the way to her ear and she fought the growing heat in her body.

"Ahh, I didn't mean it princess," he turned her around, "I just want to take you to a party, that's all,"

She raised her chin and looked at him squarely, unable to stop the small smile growing on her mouth.

"A party?"

"Yeah," he curled his fingers through her wet hair, "I want to show off my pretty Harlequin, that's ok isn't it? After all you've done to help me…I'll buy you a new dress,"

She returned his smile, helpless.

"So where is this party, you were thinking of crashing?"

He giggled. "The playboy prince is turning thirty this weekend, sounds like that would be a great event…"

Harley pulled away, her heart wrenching in her chest.

"Bruce Wayne?" her eyes filled with hurt tears, "You…just want to find…her!"

She stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door, trying to shut out his manic laughter ringing in her ears.

After everything she'd done for him and he was still obsessed with that little blonde whore!

Amelia West. If she ever met that woman in the flesh, she'd carve her face!

It had taken her months to get him to forget her, to get him to stop mentioning his little ballerina every session they had.

Plus the woman was _supposed_ to be dead. Harley didn't know why he was so obsessed with a dead woman.

What did Amelia West have that she didn't have? What could she give him that Harley wasn't already giving?

Jealously melted like a cloud over her head and she paced the bathroom, preying the effects of the pills would kick in soon and she could sleep and forget all this.

The fact was the The Joker was insisting that his little 'ballerina' as he fondly referred to her, was alive and well, that Batman had hidden her from him somewhere. His obsession consumed him, it ate him up and it was all he talked about.

Six months ago he had given Harley the task of finding her, much to her displeasure. She went along with it for a while, never really expecting to find anything.

She began tailing the millionaire Bruce Wayne, knowing that at one time they had been good friends. She had never expected to actually find her.

Harley had followed him one day to Metropolis, to a run down part of the city near the docks. She had pulled up her car near a red brick town house and waited, watching intently as the handsome, dark haired man disappeared inside.

She had sat agitated for over an hour, when finally he reappeared red faced and angry.

Then Harley saw her and her mouth went dry. The girl came running out down the steps after him, her long dark hair flying behind her wildly.

"Bruce, please wait!" she cried, catching his arm, "I didn't mean that…don't go!"

He pushed her away, looking hurt and crestfallen and the girl watched in horror as he climbed back into the black limo and hurriedly pulled away.

Harley sat and watched the young girl falter on the steps for a few minutes before she broke down in tears and ran back inside.

Harley didn't know what to think. First she was elated that she'd actually found Amelia West and could take that information back to the Joker. He would be so pleased with her.

But then, what would he do? He was already blindly obsessed with this woman and she only ever indulged him because she was supposed to be dead.

Harley had swallowed nervously.

Would he leave her?

The risk was too great so Harley became the best liar ever there was. Instead, fuelled by her own obsession, she began to watch Miss West relentlessly as if she would suddenly disappear.

The hatred Harley felt for her only doubled each time she saw her.

What was it that he loved so much? She seemed a skinny, plain little thing. But there had to be a reason.

Harley began to think terrible thoughts.

_If I killed her now, he would never know anything. Then she would be really dead and buried and we can forget her. Why can't he forget her?_

Was she capable of killing a person? Harley had come to realise that she was capable of much more than she'd ever dreamed of, including breaking a mass murderer out of an asylum three times.

It wasn't long before Harley turned to the sleeping pills, unable to switch off at night, her hatred eating at her insides, making bile rise in her throat.

Now things had suddenly come together. She had broken him out for the third time and she was sure that this time he wouldn't be easily caught.

Now she would no longer be able to lie to him. He could read her face so easily and if he ever found out that she had kept this from him…

Harley shivered, huddling into her dressing gown and opened the bathroom door slowly. To her relief he'd dozed off on the bed again, the remote control in his hand.

She towered over him, love and grief overwhelming her. His face was relaxed and soft, his chest rising and falling deeply and she wanted to crawl in next to him and sleep forever.

Why couldn't he always be like this?

_I love you so much. Why do you treat me this way?_

She caught sight of her pallid, white face in the mirror above the bed. Her eyes were red rimmed and sore, but there was something else there, something that made her want to scream.

Weakness. She was so weak and pathetic.

"I hate you," she whispered to the stranger in the mirror.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello, sorry for the long wait between updating. This is a lot harder than I thought it would be!! Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed, thank you buffysparrow for the encouragement! Please, any thoughts are welcome. You will see more of the Joker and Bruce in the next chapter, I promise. Hope you are enjoying xx**

**You are not alone**

_She was standing on a roof top, looking over the fair city of Gotham. _

_Her home._

_I want to go home, she thought as an icy breeze blew the tattered gown around her bare legs, her feet frozen to the ground._

_Where were all the people? It felt as though she were completely alone in the world, up here._

_She felt the presence behind her; she could hear his dull footsteps on the ground._

_A sigh escaped her mouth as arms snaked around her waist and she leaned back against him, feeling his breath on her neck._

_She always knew he would eventually find her and some part of her wanted to give up. _

"_Why are you all by yourself ballerina?" he whispered in her ear._

_Tears pricked her eyes, making the city lights blur together._

"_I have to hide from you," she replied, her hands gripping onto his strong arms._

_How was it possible that she felt so safe?_

_He chuckled in her ear. "Hiding from me? Now why would you do a thing like that?"_

_His voice was so comforting; she wanted to melt into it. And she was so cold and alone. _

"_You'll kill me," she whispered._

_His grip tightened around her waist and a knife flashed before her eyes, he held it close to her throat, the blade ice cold against her flesh._

_With a gentle force he turned her, pinching her face between his fingers, nails digging painfully into her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the anger in his eyes. She didn't want to see her reflection in them._

_It was someone she didn't recognise anymore, a poor shadow of her former self._

_He could see it too._

_Gone was the fire that he had loved about her. Gone was the strength that she once possessed. Now all that was left was a stranger with Amelia West's face._

_He ran his fingers down her face, tracing fire across the skin of her throat, over her shoulder making her tremble._

_She opened her eyes and saw him. His face was thick with the same white paint that she remembered, his red smile mocking her._

"_Ballerina," he chided, "How can I kill you if you're already dead?"_

_Amelia winced. That pain, she remembered that pain. God it hurt!_

_She glanced down and saw the hilt of the blade protruding from her chest, the knife embedded up under her ribcage. Scarlet liquid streamed down the front of her dress and she felt weak._

_Their eyes met and she gasped. The Joker gave her a demonic grin and then glanced over his shoulder to the other man standing behind them._

"_Bruce…" she whispered, her eyes filling with tears, "Why won't you save me?"_

_Bruce was standing on the edge of the roof, only a few feet away. He was dressed in a purple suit, his face crudely painted in red and white._

_Bruce stared at her and then at the Joker._

"_Bruce!" she cried out, "I want to come home! Why won't you let me come home?"_

_He smiled at her, deep sorrow etched into the corners of his eyes._

"_Because you'll have to choose one of us; and it'll kill you,"_

Amelia opened her eyes slowly and saw the lights of her alarm clock blinking at her in the darkness. Wearily she sat up, propping herself up on her elbows.

She was drenched in sweat and her throat was dry and sore, like she'd swallowed sawdust. Reaching for the glass by her bed, she knocked it accidently, the shattering of the glass making her jump.

Groaning she snaked out of the bed, avoiding the splinters of glass on the floor and ran to the kitchen for a dustpan and brush.

This was not the first time Jack had sneaked, uninvited into her dreams. She always seemed to be standing on the rooftop of Gotham Zoo, in the same dress she wore the night she was accidently stabbed.

That night, the mere thought of it all still terrified her.

Afterwards, when the Joker was safely tucked in a cell at Arkham and she was recovering in a secure unit in hospital, they had told her she had been officially dead for four minutes.

She had woken up in the ambulance with the paramedic about to record time of death and had looked up into his startled and relieved face.

When she had come to at the newly rebuilt Gotham general, Bruce was waiting for her by her bedside, his hand in hers and a plan was hatched.

Rachel Bruce was born. She had chosen that name to honour her two best friends, her childhood playmates.

One of which was dead and the other….well Amelia wasn't sure that Bruce even wanted to speak to her anymore.

Creeping back into bed, suddenly exhausted from her dream she was struck by a sudden urge to cry.

She had said some awful things to Bruce the last day she had seen him, unforgivable and cruel.

But surely he had known that she had been lashing out in grief? She had hoped that the letter would have smoothed the way forward but she had heard nothing for a whole month.

Trying to sleep, Amelia's thoughts turned to the dream again.

Why did Bruce say she had to choose? Why was he wearing the Joker's suit?

"_How can I kill you if you're already dead?"_

Amelia shuddered under the duvet. In the dream she always felt the same. That desperate, growing need to just collapse in his arms. She realised weakly that she couldn't fight it. Something in her heart connected with his and though Bruce said that he had no soul left to save, Amelia was convinced otherwise.

How was it possible that she actually felt guilty for lying to him? He was locked up in a cell, believing he had killed her. The thought tortured her.

She had seen the regret on his face that night; the full horror of what he had done hitting him squarely between the eyes.

And she let it continue. She let him believe he had killed her.

That last night on the roof, he had asked to be saved and she was the only one who would be able to do so.

In the letter she had lied to Bruce, though when writing it she had been so desperate for his contact that she would have said anything to get him to talk to her.

Her feelings would have to remain hidden. Her guilty secret.

In the morning, the sun shone through the window, making her squeeze her eyes shut tighter.

Amelia pulled herself out of bed and jumped in the shower.

Brushing her wet hair vigoursly afterward, she caught sight of her face in the mirror.

Tearing her eyes away from her pale skin and long dark hair she dressed hurriedly in her dance wear, knowing that she would be late if she kept dwelling on unwanted thoughts the whole day.

"Miss Bruce!" a little girl's voice chimed from behind her as she locked her front door, after hastily downing a coffee and a muffin.

Amelia turned to see a little blonde girl, all bundled up in a duffle coat standing at her gate. Amelia gave her a big smile.

"Hi Greta, you ready for class?"

"I was going to walk with you Miss Bruce, is that ok?"

Amelia locked her door and opened the gate. "Sure honey, have you been practising?"

The little girl looked up at her, adoration written all over her face.

"I have but I can't get that move quite right…you know the one you showed us last week?"

Amelia put a hand on her shoulder as they walked together down the street.

"Ahh, the petite allegro? You'll get it honey, I promise. I want to see you at the auditions next week,"

Greta beamed. "Really?"

"Of course, you're amazing!" she ruffled the girl's hair affectionately.

Amelia followed the little girl as they approached the school gates, Greta sped off the see her friends who were all waiting at the gate.

Amelia had become used to the looks for admiration from her little students. To them, she was like a fairy princess, a real ballerina and they all wanted to be like her.

When she put on her dance clothes and performed for them, usually at the end of a class, she could practically hear their little hearts beating, fantasies of costumes, ballet slippers and fairy wings running through their minds.

"Rachel!" a voice called and she jumped abruptly, seeing her friend Mia waving to her from the window of a cab.

Amelia narrowed her eyes as Mia climbed out of the cab and paid the driver.

"Having car trouble?" Amelia asked. More parents with their girls began to arrive for the Saturday morning dance class.

Mia shook her head. "You'll never believe it…my tyres got slashed last night!"

Amelia's eyes widened. "You're kidding!"

"I wish I was…I saw the freak that did it too, from my bedroom window…."

Amelia took her friends arm. "I'm so sorry, that's awful. Did you get a good look at them?"

She saw Mia's face tighten, as though she were thinking up a bad memory.

"Well, they were wearing a mask," she shuddered, "Uggh, it was freaky…I hate clowns!"

Amelia's heart caught in her throat but she didn't react.

"That awful…did you tell the police?"

Mia rolled her brown eyes. "What do they care? They have bigger problems in the city,"

Amelia frowned. "They're not going to push it further?"

Mia shrugged suddenly looking uncomfortable.

"We better get in and do this class….but you fancy a drink afterwards?"

"Sure," Amelia smiled warmly.

She spent the next hour with fourteen little six year olds. This was usually the highlight of her week, getting to spend time with the little ones. They were so cute and sweet.

Amelia couldn't believe that it had taken all these years to find her dream job. True that she wasn't raking in a fortune, but she loved her simple, easy life here. Some of these children were from single parent families and had never even visited the city centre let alone thought about ballet and dance.

Children like Greta got to her the most. Greta's mother had been having special cancer treatment over at Gotham general before it had been blown up. She had been one of the unlucky ones who never escaped.

After the class piled out and they had locked the school Mia caught up with her and they found themselves in a bar, two blocks away.

"Do you know how much four new tyres are going to cost me?" Mia whined after her second glass of wine.

Amelia nodded grimly. Of course she _didn't_ know the value of tyres. Amelia had never driven in her life, spending most of her younger years being chauffeured around in the back of limos, but she sighed along with her friend.

"This neighbourhood is getting worse!" Mia cried, "Gotham is like the emerald city in comparison to this place,"

"Oh, I don't know," Amelia sighed, "It has its fair share of wackos _believe_ me!"

It took her a couple of seconds for her to realise her slip up.

Mia knew very little about Amelia's former life and that was the way she liked it. The more lies you told the more you had to remember to cover up. It was like a constant battle, trying to remember who you told what about yourself. But sometimes Amelia just wished she could off load on someone. Mia didn't know how close she'd come on so many boozy nights out to hearing Amelia's life story.

"So you lived in Gotham?" Mia asked suddenly curious.

Amelia squirmed inside. "Only for a couple of years…I trained there, didn't I tell you?"

Mia took another sip of her red wine. "No, but it must have been amazing there…hey did you ever meet Batman?"

Amelia burst out laughing. "That's like asking if I've ever met the queen!"

"Well did you ever see him…he's always on the news,"

"No, no I never met him…why; do you think he's cute?"

Mia blushed. "He's more sexy than cute, all that black rubber…"

Amelia giggled, putting her hands to her mouth. Mia laughed her face indigent.

"You _asked_ if I thought he was cute! We sure could use a guy like him around here,"

"I'm sure a super man will turn up here one day…but for now we'll have to make do with the Metropolis Police force," Amelia laughed, feeling pleasantly relaxed.

It was good to take her mind off her nightmare last night.

"So what did the police say to you last night? You _did _report it didn't you?"

Again Mia looked uncomfortable.

"I did, but they just said the usual, you know, double lock the doors, check the bars on the windows…but, I don't know, it was just so creepy,"

Amelia shifted in her seat.

"I'm not crazy about clowns myself," she admitted and Mia raked a hand though her dark, thick hair.

"I woke up…and this is going to sound crazy, but I think the guy threw a rock at my window, to wake me up,"

Amelia looked startled. "Are you sure?"

Mia nodded, her hands winding around her wine glass. "Positive,"

"That _is _creepy, I'm sorry honey,"

Something about Mia's grim expression told her the story was not quite finished

"When I went to the window and I saw the clown out by my car, he looked up and waved at me!"

Chilled, Amelia wrapped her arms around herself.

"That's…I don't know what to say…disturbing!"

Mia nodded. "If it was just some random attack, I could deal with it, but it felt personal,"

Amelia had to agree that it didn't sound right at all. If she had woken up to find a clown out by her car, she would have caved in and called Bruce right away, despite the fact that he wasn't talking to her.

They parted not long after that, Amelia making sure Mia promised to call her if she needed anything.

Amelia dashed to the market before it shut down, grabbing some vegetables for dinner. She couldn't shake off the horrible feeling that this attack on Mia's car had somehow been a warning sign.

But then she admitted, slashing a car tyre was not really the Joker's style. If he sent a sign then he sent a _sign,_ usually in the form of a dead body.

She repeated over and over to herself that she was just imagining things and it had been some random kid, probably high on smack, having a little devilish fun with a young girl. It was probably even a neighbour's kid, who had a grudge for some reason.

The sky was black and leaden by the time Amelia reached her front door, the first few spots of rain hitting her skin as she dived through her bag, scrambling for her keys.

She saw the envelope pinned to the front door and swallowed.

Reaching for it gingerly, the rain began to really pelt down as she ripped it open.

She pulled out a black and white photo, her heart leaping into her throat at the sight of it.

It was a close up shot of her, in one of her dance classes. She was standing in the middle of her students demonstrating a move. She remembered this! It couldn't have been taken that long ago.

In black ink, Amelia's face had been drawn on, a sick smile carved up her face, her eyes blackened out and dead.

To her horror a car roared into life behind her, the lights blinking on, making her jump. Amelia whirled around to see the grey sedan pull violently out of its parking space. She hadn't even noticed it there!

As the car rolled past, Amelia caught sight of the figure in the front seat, from the wound down window.

They locked eyes and Amelia stumbled back against her front door. The eyes were dead and black, filled with a look of complete hatred.

The car sped away and Amelia scrambled to get inside her house, bolting the door shut after her. She collapsed on the hallway floor, wet and out of breath.

That face! She couldn't shake the image out of her head.

Amelia burst into tears, her worst nightmare finally realised. She should have known that it couldn't last.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but all she could see was that figure in the car.

It had been a woman.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Hi and thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far, your comments really keep me going. This is a bit of a longer chapter, hope its ok, was actually quite fun to write. As always let me know what you think. Some of you have said that you don't like Harley much? Is this a general thing or that this interpretation of her is not good? Let me know xx**

**It's my party**

Bruce took a slug of his beer, wiping the corner of his mouth with his fingertips.

Today he was thirty and joy, everyone was here to help him celebrate.

The party had been Alfred's idea. A party, he'd said, would lift his mood and do him the world of good.

He could have anyone here he wanted, any hot female celebrity he chose. But the person he wanted most to celebrate with, was far away and also hated him.

Bruce closed his eyes and tried to block out the sound of frivolity coming from his ballroom. He'd stood the tedious small talk for an hour, plastering a fake smile across his face, finally disappearing into the library.

He looked down at the letter in his hand, turning the thin paper over and over.

He missed Amelia so much. But this way, she stayed hidden.

"Master Wayne," an older voice spoke softly behind him, "Your guests are missing you, sir,"

Bruce took another swig of his drink.

"Just call me when the dancing girls arrive Alfred,"

Alfred chuckled and placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

"This isn't some turning thirty crisis is it sir? Because really, you should have enough on your mind,"

Bruce gave him a look. "This was _your _idea and it was a bad one! The Joker is on the loose again; of course I have a lot on my mind!"

"Sir I hate to interrupt your moment of self pity but I had to tell you…Abbott West has arrived,"

Bruce groaned. "You _invited _Amelia's father here?" He glared up at his old butler reproachfully.

Alfred looked sheepish. "Don't blame me for taking pity on a man who, only a year ago, lost his wife and daughter…have a heart Master Wayne,"

Bruce downed his beer and raked his fingers through his thick dark hair.

Slowly he stood, smoothing his shirt and tie.

"You know I've never been good at small talk Alfred,"

He followed the butler back out into the hallway, where loud music was floating down the hallway from the ballroom.

////

Amelia waited impatiently for the train to slide into the station. She huddled further inside her coat and pulled her pashmina around her neck.

This had been a bad idea.

"Welcome to Gotham Central, where this train terminates," an announcement was made over the tannoy and she felt her heart lift with joy and fear at the same time.

She was home.

Grabbing her case she marched off the train, pushing her way through the crowds mingling on the platform, the sky overhead threatening rain.

Hailing the first cab she saw, she bundled inside.

"Where to?" the driver called over his shoulder, while she checked her purse for how much money she had spare.

"Uh…it's a little off the beaten track…do you know Wayne Manor?"

The driver snorted. "Know it? That's a fair trek across the city Miss; it's not going to be cheap?"

Amelia scowled at him. "How much will fifty bucks take me?"

"Doesn't cover the full journey, but you got a good pair of legs on you, I'm sure you can walk the rest!"

Amelia settled back in her seat. "How gallant of you. Fine, just drive,"

She had forgotten how gentlemanly the male population of Gotham were.

Amelia tried to relax on the journey, knowing in her heart that this was the right thing to do. Her mind had been made up shortly after her run in with the woman in the sedan.

The next morning, it was announced on the news that the Joker had escaped Arkham asylum. Amelia had heard two times before that he had escaped but this time it felt different. This time she was worried and was sure that he had help, in the shape of the woman in the car.

Amelia had never seen the woman before but she felt that it must have something to do with his escape.

The clown slashing Mia's tyres. The clown face drawn on her photograph.

It was enough to make her truly jumpy. The woman knew where she lived, which meant that if it was true then he would be coming for her next and she wasn't about to wait around for that to happen.

She had to see Bruce. No matter how much he hated her right now, he was the one person she really trusted.

////

Bruce watched Abbott West from the far corner of the room, waiting for the right moment to approach the older man.

He looked so much thinner and tired since Amelia's funeral a year ago. He had always been a tall, elegant man, but now he bordered on gaunt, his grey hair thinning at his ears.

Abbott's face lit up when he saw Bruce walking towards him.

Bruce handed him a drink before the older man embraced him in a warm hug.

"Look at you!" Abbott declared, "Bruce Wayne, all grown up. What a fine man you've turned into!"

"How are you Mr West?" Bruce asked and the older man clapped him on the shoulder.

"You're not twelve anymore Bruce, you can call me Abbott,"

Bruce smiled warmly. "You win. How are you, Abbott?"

Abbott's face paled for a moment, the light leaving his eyes.

"Well, it's been an unbearable year," he admitted and Bruce felt a wave of guilt wash over him. If the poor man only knew the plan he'd concocted with his only daughter, it would probably kill him.

"Do you keep yourself busy? Are you still working?" Bruce tried to keep the conversation flowing.

"Not much use these days, all you bright young things coming up the ladder and my legs are not like they used to be to keep climbing it,"

It worried Bruce how much Abbott had aged in a year. He almost appeared, elderly, as though Amelia's death had literally sucked the life out of him.

"So, a handsome young man like you must have a beautiful woman stashed away somewhere?" Abbott teased and Bruce forced a laugh, "Or several?"

"No, no women for me," Bruce replied, "At least nobody special at the moment,"

There was a crash behind them and a woman screamed.

Bruce automatically pushed Abbott to the side with his arm, throwing his glass on the floor.

The crash had come from the main hallway and he was running on wooden legs. The scene in the hallway unfolded before him. Goons in clown masks were rounding up frightened guests like sheep, firing the odd shot in the air to keep them placid.

Bruce whirled around, the man he'd become all too familiar with, standing larger than life in his home.

The Joker, arms folded behind his back, surveyed the party. Bruce stared hard at his tall, hunched figure, the makeup smeared on his scared face, as alarming as ever.

"Well, well, _quite_ a party, Mr Wayne," the clown observed, "You really know how to throw a good bash, quite an occasion for turning thirty…I did that a while ago myself, no big deal is it?"

"What do you want?" Bruce growled, livid at his home being invaded.

"Why is that the first question everyone _always _asks me? Everyone is so _thoughtful,_ to give me what I want, it seems," he laughed, the cackle echoing around the hall.

It was then Bruce noticed the woman in the corner. She had tangled blonde hair and was dressed in a long violet gown. Oddly her face was painted the same horrific way that his was. She was holding a shot gun in trembling hands.

The Joker noticed him staring at her and motioned her over, she came on leaden feet.

"Ohh, have I not introduced you?" the Joker pushed Harley forward and she reluctantly met Bruce's eyes, "This is Harley,"

Bruce raised an eyebrow, amazed that someone like the Joker could have attracted another woman to him. And there he was saving the city night after night and he could barely find time for a date.

"I'll ask you again, Joker, what do you want? Money? Or are you sore you didn't get an invite?"

The Joker laughed. "Well I assumed it got lost in the mail, but seeing as you ask so nicely…I just want to know where my ballerina is….I know you've been keeping her from me!"

Bruce blanched, not expecting that question. He was aware of Abbott West in the corner of his vision.

Unfortunately the Joker had spotted him too.

"Oh, look there's daddy!" he giggled and motioned to one of his goons.

"You're the monster that killed my little girl," Abbott cried, his face full of fury.

"Stay back Abbott!" Bruce shouted.

Two goons cornered the old man, roughly seizing his arms and forcing him to his knees. Bruce swallowed uneasily, the sight appalling him.

"Leave him alone," he pleaded.

The Joker approached Abbott, wagging the blade of his knife in the old man's face.

"You know, Mr West, you have a lot to answer for," the clown whispered inches from his face, "I assume you know it was I that was locked up with your precious girl little girl all those years ago? It was my father who held you and your wife hostage for three days, while you did nothing but play the concerned billionaire. Do you want to know how many times my father raped your wife before he butchered her face?"

"Joker stop!" Bruce cried, "He's an old man!"

The Joker shot Bruce a look filled with rage.

"That doesn't mean he shouldn't answer for his crimes!" he seethed.

"I've done nothing!" Abbott spat back, "You on the other hand are the one who murdered my child!"

The Joker leaned closer, the blade inches from his eyes.

"See that's where the jokes on you…or _both _of us if you like…cause your little princess is alive!"

////

The cab pulled up on the side of the road and Amelia looked at the driver in horror.

"You're kidding right?" she said, exasperated.

"This is as far as I go lady," he shrugged, "Wayne Manor is about two miles in that direction,"

"But it's pouring with rain!" she hissed at him.

Knowing that she was going to get into an argument she scrambled her things together and hauled herself out of the cab, her heels instantly sinking into the mud on the verge.

Cursing loudly at him as he sped off, Amelia tried to ignore the rain swiftly soaking through her clothes.

She hauled her case along behind her, her feet occasionally slipping on the wet concrete, her heart thundering in her chest.

Twenty long minutes later, soaked to the skin and shivering, the lights of Wayne Manor shone directly in front of her.

////

"My… daughter…is… _dead_," Abbott West spoke calmly with much more courage in the face of a madman, than Bruce could have imagined.

"That's…where….you're…wrong…_pops_!" the Joker howled with laughter, giving the old man a swift kick in the ribs.

Bruce grimaced and a woman screamed. Bruce cast an eye at Harley, who was looking on with terrified eyes. She had a look on her face which plainly read 'how the hell did I get here?' all over it.

"You see Abb," the Joker continued, "Me and Amelia, we go way back. We had a little 'thing' growing up…of course you would never have known, good girls don't normally fall for guys like myself…however in those brief days we were together something happened. We connected…you could say we're 'soul mates'"

Bruce watched Harley's face crumple.

"You don't have a soul," Abbott, out of breath and in pain shot at him.

The Joker frowned.

"Now _that's_ hurtful….but whatever….it still happened, and we have _you _to thank for it. Just think, if you had _just _paid up the ransom, we would never have met and I wouldn't be here now!"

He laughed manically at this, abruptly turning to Bruce.

"Now you're turn Bruce…are you going to do the right thing? Just tell me where she is and you can all go back to your little party,"

Bruce shook his head. "You're crazy Joker. I was there when they put her body in the ground, so were you for that matter!"

The Joker began to pace, raking his fingers through his greasy, green tinged hair.

"Brucey, you're starting to push me!" he giggled, "Ok…play it your way,"

Suddenly he grabbed a gun from one of his goons and threw his arm around Harley's waist. He jabbed the gun to her temple and she gave a startled cry of surprise.

"See this girl Bruce?" he cried, "You see this cute, innocent girl…I'll kill her, right in front of your eyes….all you have to do is tell me where Amelia is,"

Bruce held out his hands. The look of terror on Harley's face was real but he still had to play for time.

"Why would I believe that you would kill one of your own? Doesn't she mean anything to you?"

Harley stared up at the Joker, her eyes wide.

He looked down at her thoughtfully.

"Uhhh…..not really, no," he replied and Bruce blinked. The sound of the gun sliced through the air and Harley screamed in pain, falling to the ground.

He'd shot her in the leg and blood was quickly escaping her body. She tried to scramble away but he grabbed her hair and hauled her back.

Bruce held up his hands in a time out gesture.

"Calm down!" he spoke slowly, "That woman needs help; she's going to die if she's not taken to hospital,"

"Well _that_ was the idea," the Joker replied curtly, "I care about one thing and I'm not about to repeat myself. I'll kill her and then everyone else in this building until you tell me what I want to know,"

Gasping in pain, Harley tried to reach up to him, but he cruelly shoved her away.

"Wait…Jack….I'm here,"

The voice sent a shock of silence around the room and everyone turned in the direction of its origin.

Bruce stared at her and immediately felt weak. Talk about timing!

Abbott was staring at her disbelieving, his old face crumpling in tears.

"Amelia….you're alive!" he whispered.

The Joker, clearly taken back, let the gun fall limply in his hand.

"We have a winner," his voice was strained as he strode towards her.

Amelia was soaked through to the skin, her dark hair plastered to her face. She dropped her case at her side as he came towards her.

"Jack," she whispered, "What have you done?"

Barely able to breath she touched the lapels of his coat, taking them firmly in her hands. The need to wrap herself into him was strong, just like in her dreams, but she stood back holding him at arms length.

He met her eyes and reached out to touch her wet face.

"I really can do magic," he said in a low voice, not his usual sing song voice.

"You need to listen to me," she said, stepping closer, "You have to let all these people go…and let that girl go to a hospital. I'll go with you, wherever you want to go,"

He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against hers, his breath on her face.

"You…really aren't dead? I was right?" he said softly and she nodded, "You lied to me?"

Amelia let out a sarcastic laugh. "You blame me?"

A gun shot sounded through the air and they broke apart.

Harley was standing weakly on one leg, the gun dropped from her hand crashing to the polished floor. Before watching her pass out Amelia looked at her father.

He doubled over, his mid section covered in blood.

"_No_!" Amelia screamed, pushing past the Joker. She skidded across the floor and met Bruce at her father's side.

She grabbed Bruce's arm. "Do something!" she screamed, "Daddy…no!"

Abbott West made a gurgling sound, his hands reaching for Amelia before falling back against the wooden floor.

"No, no…I shouldn't have come….daddy!" she wept over his body.

Bruce's face crumpled as he watched the older man die.

Suddenly the room went black. Chaos erupted everywhere, Amelia felt someone fall over her legs as she reached out for Bruce blindly in the darkness.

Bruce felt a pair of hand on his shoulders, roughly pulling him backwards into a doorway.

"I cut the power Master Wayne," Alfred's voice was hissing in his ear, "Get down to the cave _now!_"

Bruce squeezed his arm before disappearing though the door.

Amelia was clinging frantically to her father's body as mass hysteria carried on around her. She could hear ornaments smashing and bodies crashing together as people tried to desperately scramble for safety.

She slid her hand across the floor and felt something wet and sticky, reeling backwards, knowing it must be her father's blood.

Someone grabbed her waist and she was hauled to her feet.

"I'm not letting you disappear that easily, my sweet," the Joker hissed in her ear and she screamed out Bruce's name.

"Jack, where are we going?" she stammered, tripping over bodies as they walked.

"To find a light switch that would be a start!" he giggled nervously.

He whirled her around in the darkness and she bashed into his chest. He pinched her face roughly and kissed her mouth, giving her bottom lip a quick, sharp bite. She recoiled, feeling blood well up there, but gripped his lapels for support.

Suddenly the whole room was illuminated and she blinked, shading her eyes.

Amelia and the Joker exchanged looks, surprised and relieved at the same time.

"Mind if I crash the party?" came a deep voice behind them.

The Joker turned and was met with a blow to his jaw. Batman towered over his body, grabbing him by the lapels and hauling him across the floor.

There was a sickening thud as the Joker's body hit a stone pillar and he was knocked unconscious.

Amelia stared at Bruce and fought the urge to hug him and punch him at the same time.

"We have to get you out of here," Batman seized her hand and pulled her roughly through the debris of piled up bodies.

"My father…" she stammered.

"Not now…now we leave…"

"What about Alfred? And that girl?"

"Not _now_ Amelia!"

Batman pulled her into what looked like a narrow lift and she was instantly pressed up against his black chest. They were travelling downwards and she could feel the damp, cold air rising up to greet them.

The journey in the elevator seemed to take a lifetime and she avoided looking up at his black eyes. It felt surreal. She hadn't seen him in six months.

The blackness of the cave enveloped them and she felt him take her hand in the darkness, leading her down some stone steps.

Above their heads she could hear the thrumming sound of water gushing downwards.

Computers and machinery whirled into action all around them and Amelia saw what looked like a black tank parked not far away.

"Is this…?"

"My cave," Bruce said, "Get in, we have to get you as far away as possible,"

Amelia stared at him angrily.

"No Bruce, this happened because I was far away, and now my dad is dead! I'm not going anywhere,"

Bruce grabbed her arm roughly and pushed her direction of the car.

"Then how about somewhere _safe?_ Where we can discuss this?"

Amelia folded her arms, reluctantly waiting for the door of the car to slide open. This was the first time she had been alone with her best friend in months and she had a few things she needed to say.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! Special thanks to Buffy sparrow and Ha-ley baby. Hope it's still as enjoyable. As always any comments or suggestions are really welcome. Xx**

**Know me by now**

They sat in awkward silence as Bruce's car thundered along the narrow, winding roads of Gotham's outer district.

Amelia occasionally sneaked a glance at his stony profile; his black eyes staring dead ahead.

Without warning, Bruce plunged the car off road, into wilder terrain and Amelia grabbed his arm, as they hurtled into undergrowth a full speed.

"Where are we going?" she cried, "You haven't said a word to me since we left Wayne Manor,"

Bruce ignored her, steering the car through dense heavy forest.

What looked like a massive rock face loomed ahead of them and with no signs of stopping or even slowing down, Amelia shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

The rock grew closer and Amelia winced.

"Bruce…._seriously_…slow down!"

He flicked a switch on the dashboard and to her shock the rock began to move, opening like a giant mouth and they disappeared inside it.

Amelia opened her eyes and found they were travelling at high speed through a dimly lit tunnel.

Her heart beat calmed as finally, she felt the huge machine they were sitting in, begin to slow to a crawl.

"We're here," he said tonelessly and the door beside her opened.

She touched his arm, cladded in black rubber.

"Talk to me Bruce," she whispered, "How can you be like this to me? I just lost my father,"

He looked at her through the blackness of the mask. "You shouldn't have come,"

"I know that, but you don't understand what was happening…"

He held up his hand in a silencing gesture and she shook her head angrily.

"I don't want to hear it Amelia, all I've done to keep you safe and you walk straight into his trap, and now you're father is dead!"

Suddenly filled with the urge to slap him, she jumped out of the car, her feet immediately landing in a puddle of ice cold water.

"Mind where you step," came his warning, a little too late.

Looking around her, it appeared that they were inside another cave. It rose up twenty or more feet above their heads and she could hear small, animal scratching noises above.

"Follow me," he said and she folded her arms against the cold.

He led her up some steps and they were met with a heavy metal door. Bruce cranked it open and flicked the switch inside.

Amelia gasped. It was like an exact replica of his Gotham penthouse that he had owned a year or so ago, while Wayne Manor was being rebuilt.

How was it possible that he had this hidden here, tucked away, underground?

"Alfred suggested that we build this a year ago, after you were sent away," he answered her unspoken question, "Just as an added precaution, if anything like tonight ever happened again,"

He led her into the living area and she marvelled at how clean and precise everything appeared, like the place was waiting for guests to arrive.

Amongst the minimalist furniture and white backdrop, he looked so out of place in his black, intimidating suit.

"I have to go back and clear up that mess," he said, "There's a bedroom through that door…I suggest we talk in the morning,"

She watched him leave and felt tears prick her eyes. Had she really hurt him that much that he couldn't bare to be in the same room as her?

Amelia wandered around the apartment aimlessly, trying to get her head around what had happened. First seeing Jack again had spun her head. She hadn't expected to feel, so drawn to him, like they had never been apart.

And her father.

Amelia felt bile rise in her throat and frantically opened all the doors in the place till she found a bright white bathroom. Leaning over the bowl she sobbed and vomited till she couldn't see straight.

She couldn't get that look on his face out of her head. He'd looked so happy to see her, the tension and strain on his face melting away. And now she would never have the chance to say how sorry she was.

The events of the evening had left her feeling dirty and cold and she striped off her red sweater and grey slacks and jumped in the shower.

Bruce really knew what women liked to see in a bathroom. She could have stayed under the spray for hours, trying out all the different shower gels and soaps. Warmer and fresher, she stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel that had been sitting on a heater. This was the life Amelia had grown up with and it amazed her how much she'd missed it, despite how much she loved her quaint little house in Metropolis.

Rubbing herself dry she heard the door creek behind her and nearly screamed when she saw Batman's black figure staring at her from behind in the mirror.

"Jesus! Bruce…you scared the shit out of me!" she yelled, frantically trying to cover her nakedness.

"Sorry," he mumbled, the faintest hint of a blush appearing under that mask, "When I couldn't find you I panicked…but I see you're just making yourself at home!"

Amelia scowled at him. "What is _that _supposed to mean?"

"Nothing…I have to change," he turned to leave.

"I think you just gave me ten grey hairs," she scolded him.

She could have been mistaken but she was sure that she saw his mouth curl up in a smile.

Ten minutes later, wrapped in a towelling robe she met him in the kitchen, where he was making tea.

"So are you going to tell me what's going on at home or are you going to ignore me all night?" she demanded, suddenly feeling very annoyed and stressed.

He looked at her thoughtfully. He'd changed into slacks and a T-shirt. There was a huge gash on his bicep, and a bruise forming on his jaw line.

"Alfred pretty much had the whole scene under control when I got there. He called the police and they have the woman in protective custody at Gotham general, where after she'll be moved to county. It's been confirmed that she was the Joker's doctor at Arkham and has been the one helping him escape,"

Amelia busied herself, helping arrange the tea tray, her nerves fluttering in her chest.

"And the Joker?" she didn't meet Bruce's eyes.

"Gone when I got there,"

She sighed deeply. "So he escaped. And he knows I'm alive. Great,"

Bruce couldn't contain himself any longer.

"I would think you'd be pleased, after the way you reacted when you saw him," his tone was so jealous, so bitter that it made Amelia stare angrily up at his clenched face.

"Is _that _what you think? That I'm so _desperately _in love with him that I would want all of this? I've been in hiding for a year, because I didn't want this…and now look what's happened!"

"Then why did you come back?" he demanded heatedly.

Amelia burst into tears. "Because I wanted to see _you!_"

Bruce instantly regretted his outburst. He moved forward to touch her hand but she pulled it away roughly.

"After the way I spoke to you six months ago, I was frightened that I'd lost you and I wrote you that letter and you never replied…."

Bruce began to pace the kitchen, running his hands through his dark hair.

"I was angry, Amelia….I thought you wanted him still,"

"You sent me away, away from my family; from you…I was all alone. Yes I know it was the right thing to do. But you got to carry on with your life and I was this outcast. When things started to happen there…I got scared and came home to the one person I thought I could trust…"

He walked towards her and caught her off guard by taking her face between his hands.

"In that letter you said that you didn't love him….but what I saw tonight told me differently. I saw the way you looked at him! And I don't know how or why Amelia but he _knew _you were alive! Like it or not there is _something_ there between you, do you deny that?"

She placed her hands on his arms that had moved down to her shoulders. She sniffed and shook her head.

"No, I don't deny it,"

He pulled away angrily and suddenly it was startlingly obvious what was going on.

Amelia stepped closer to him and placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Bruce…" she whispered, "Are you jealous…of _him_?"

When he didn't answer she knew it was true and somehow it made her want to laugh. Bruce was perfect in everyway. He could have any woman he wanted, he was strong, handsome and was amazingly wealthy. The mere thought that he could be jealous of a vagrant like Jack was absurd.

"Bruce," she smiled, "How…how can you be jealous of him?"

Bruce turned to her, sadness in his dark eyes.

"Because he has you, and I don't,"

When he kissed her, Amelia was too taken back to pull away. The kiss was warm and soft, not bruising or punishing like the Joker's. She closed her eyes as they filled with tears, not wanting him to see that she just didn't and couldn't feel the same way.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, pulling away, "But this has been a confusing and emotional night…"

"No, I'm sorry," Bruce added quickly, "After everything you've gone through, you need rest and here I am taking advantage,"

She nodded knowing that she needed to get away and have some space.

"Bruce, I do love you so much, you're my best friend,"

Bruce smiled grimly. "Friend? I guess I have my answer,"

"Be serious Bruce….you've never looked at me that way. It was always Rachel you were in love with. You and I…I can't believe we are even discussing it,"

He sighed. "Is the idea that disgusting to you?"

Amelia laughed in disbelief. "Of course not! You're…well you're amazingly gorgeous and any woman would kill to have a guy like you fall in love with them. But you've always been like my older brother,"

Amelia turned to leave, but squeezed his arm affectionalty.

"I'll change your mind," he called after her and she threw him a sad smile.

Bruce watched her slim figure disappear through a door to the bedroom and he gritted his teeth.

How could he even begin to explain his feelings? The fact that she was in love with Jack Napier, a disgusting freak, not to mention a serial killer, was killing him inside.

When Amelia had leaned his true identity a year ago and had not turned away from him, he had seen some of the hope of a future he'd so longed for with Rachel.

He tried to push his feelings away knowing that every time he went to visit Amelia in Metropolis that he was getting closer and closer to breaking down and confessing all to her. She didn't give herself enough credit for the person she had become and was always comparing herself to Rachel.

But Amelia had grown from a spoiled little princess who could never hold down a job, to a beautiful independent woman who had overcome great hardship.

She was perfect in everyway for him and the more he saw her the more he'd fallen for her.

When the day had come when her grandmother died and she lashed out at him, accusing him of keeping her prisoner, the time had seemed almost perfect for him to break apart.

How could he tell her that the reason he'd avoided her for all those months was because he was fighting his true feelings?

What did Jack Napier have that he didn't? What was the impossible hold he had over her?

Bruce paced the apartment until the early hours, listening keenly to the sounds she made coming from the bedroom.

Finally he could take it no longer, marching purposely to her bedroom door. He opened it quietly and took in the sight of her tucked under the sheets like a princess.

He watched her for a while, drinking in her image and finally deciding not to wake her up at this hour, closed the door behind him.

"Bruce Wayne always gets what he wants," he whispered sadly before shutting the door to his own room.

When the door was closed Amelia opened her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

This couldn't be happening to her. Her best friend had all but declared his undying love for her and she was still thinking about a murdering psycho clown.

What was wrong with her?

"_I'll change your mind" _Bruce's voice was still in her head, as well as his kiss on her mouth.

Then Jack's face flitted into her head and she remembered the way he walked towards her, dropping the gun to his side, the way he pressed his face to her_s_

_I really can do magic…_

"Oh Jack," she cried into her pillow. Why was she clinging so needily to the past? Bruce was an amazing man. Maybe he was her future?

She didn't want to choose, like the way her dream had said she would have to.

"_You'll have to make a choice…and it'll kill you…"_

_////_

The Joker woke up in a warehouse, laid on the cold concrete floor. He rubbed his eyes; his throat was horse and dry.

His head felt like he'd been rammed into a brick wall. He chuckled to himself.

That was close, more like a limestone pillar at Bruce Wayne's mansion.

"Harley!" he called out, his voice cracking, "_Harley!_"

"Uhh…boss…she's not here!" came a deep grumble to the left of him. Despite the thumping in his head he bolted up right. An overweight young man sat beside him and timidly handed him a glass of water. The Joker downed it greedily.

"Uhh…that hurts," he groaned, "Where is she then?"

"In the hospital boss, you shot her, don't you remember?"

Yes, he vaguely remembered trying to prove a point to the playboy prince. Yes he'd shot her in the leg. Then she'd shot Abbott West out of furious vengeance.

He hated unpredictable women.

"So…you are?" the Joker stared at the younger man and saw him flinch.

"I'm Creed; you hired me last night,"

"Oh, yes…so I did. So Creed, tell me after I was unfortunately knocked unconscious by that flying rat, did you happen to see what happened to my little ballerina?"

The boy's face changed in confusion.

"I told you boss…she's in the hospital!"

The Joker rolled his eyes. "Not Harley…the other one, the brunette?"

"Oh," the boy grinned, "The hot one?"

The Joker raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't call her that!"

"Sorry, sure…uhh, I think she left with Batman. The lights went off and I couldn't see anything,"

"I _was _there for that part. I mean after that, did you see where they went?"

"No, sir. I was busy trying to get all the guys together,"

The Joker patted the boy's chubby arm.

"Of course you were!" he smiled, "Hand me that knife, will you Creed?"

After Creed was disposed off, wiping the blood on his trouser leg he walked outside, stretching out the torn muscles of his back.

His plan was simple. First he would have to break that treacherous little wench out of the hospital; he still had other uses for her. He hadn't _actually _planned on killing Abbott West. That generally wasn't a good way of winning over the woman you loved.

Harley had taken that a step too far. He shrugged to himself. Maybe he was a little bit to blame for her condition; he had pushed her over the edge it seemed. But she would have to be taught a lesson for what she had done.

He had a feeling that it wouldn't be long before he would run into Amelia again.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Hi again and thank you so much for reviewing, you guys are great. Also thanks to anyone who has put me on their 'alert/favourites'. This is more of a plot filler chapter, just a shortie. I really like writing for Harley, I know she receives mixed feelings and is very annoying but I think she's essential to this plot... for now, ha ha. Buffy Sparrow, you may just get your wish! Xx**

**Killer Queen**

When Harley woke up, she instantly squeezed her eyes shut against the bright, florescent light beaming down on her. Her face felt hot and swollen, her arms weak at her sides.

She tried to sit up, but was met with a nauseating, sickening sensation that made her instantly drop back against the pillow.

"Where…? She moaned, her voiced cracked and dry. A female face, broad and ruddy appeared above her.

"Ahh, you awake?" she said, not an ounce of compassion in her steely voice, "You'll probably feel a bit queasy, you had quite a crash on the head, not to mention your leg,"

Harley blinked, the memory flooding back to her.

He had shot her!

Tears welled up in her eyes and she so desperately wanted to stop the room spinning before her eyes.

The nurse glanced at her, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Your on Morphine at the moment for the pain, a gun shot wound to the leg is not a comfortable thing,"

"Will I walk again?" Harley stammered and the nurse raised an eyebrow.

"You will, but only as far as your cell door," the woman shot her another unsympathetic stare and then left the room.

_Bitch_ Harley thought miserably. Gingerly she pulled herself into a sitting position and glared down at her bandaged leg.

Her eyes shifted to the small window outside her room and she saw two officers in uniform. It made her want to giggle that she was being guarded by Gotham's finest. But then she supposed she was a wanted criminal now, after shooting Abbott West dead.

Rage and jealously welled up in her throat and she suddenly wanted to scream.

She would do it again. She would do anything to wipe that contented, smug smile off Amelia West's pretty face. Her heart twisted in her chest when she thought of _how _he had looked at her.

How she had appeared like a princess in a fairy tale, soaking wet, to save the day. And he had looked at her….that way. Harley covered her mouth with her hands.

He had _never_ looked at her that way. It made her sick to remember his face, so different, his eyes awake and alive when he saw her.

It made her laugh at how shocked he'd looked when he heard the gun go off. No, he had not been expecting that one. That spoiled their little reunion.

She probably shouldn't have killed the girl's father and Harley was certain that he would be annoyed.

Harley settled back on her pillow. She could feel the grease from her hair sticking to the back of her neck. God she must look at fright, and he would probably be coming for her.

She needed to make things right. She needed to make him see that she was useful and he hadn't made a mistake when they'd got together.

The nurse came back in the room and adjusted the drip beside the bed, her eyes cool and avoiding Harley's deliberately.

She had brought in a metal tray and on it two needles and syringe.

The nurse began to prepare the needle and Harley licked her lips. She took Harley's arm and turned it over revealing pale white flesh.

"You must be in agony," the nurse mused, "You are covered in bruises. The police say that after you passed out you were kicked around that hall like a football. Its like you were in a stampede,"

Harley raised an eyebrow at the nurse and gave her an unsettling grin.

"Oh, do you feel _bad_ for me?" she purred, noting the change in her usually calm voice and the nurse met her eyes for a brief moment.

"You're a killer," she said abruptly and Harley cringed, "So, in a way, no. I don't feel bad. But it's my job to take care of you,"

Harley braced herself for a sting as the nurse emptied the contents of the syringe into her veins.

"Well, aren't you just a _peach_," she giggled, as the nurse turned briefly and collected the other syringe from the tray.

"That was to prevent any infection in your leg," the nurse explained coldly, "This is for the pain. Are you ready for another dose of Morphine?"

Harley smiled. "Are _you?_"

The nurse looked at her and blinked before she could do anything. Harley curled her fist around the syringe and jammed it hard into the older woman's throat. The nurse's eyes were wide and frantic as she struggled and then went limp, her body crashing to the floor, sending the metal tray flying.

Harley crawled out of bed and grabbed the woman under the arms, dragging her along with what little strength she possessed.

By this point the guards had heard the commotion but before they realised what was happening, Harley was in the hallway, holding the woman up, balancing dangerously on one leg.

"Call security," one of the guards shouted down the hall to a passing doctor.

"No, really _don't _do that," Harley said weakly, not realising how faint she would still feel, "I'm in a lot of pain and likely to react badly….now throw me your guns!"

The cop held out a steadying hand to her.

"Miss Quinzell, don't make this worse for yourself than it already is!" he pleaded.

"Throw me your weapons or _watch _me slice this woman's throat open!" she screamed in agony.

Reluctantly both officers lowered their guns and slid them across the floor towards her. Harley pointed her toe and dragged them to her using her foot.

"There's good boys," she hissed, white hot pain slicing up her side.

The cops held up their hands in surrender.

"Miss Quinzell," one of them spoke to her, "You're a doctor, a well respected, professional woman. You don't want two deaths on your hands,"

Harley cocked her head at them, biting her lower lip.

"Sorry?" she mused, "Don't you mean four deaths?"

The bullets cracked through the air and exploded into the stomach of one cop, causing him to stagger and hit the wall. The other was shot through the chest and it amazed her at how far the blood travelled.

The woman in her arms was like a dead weight weighing her down and she dropped her crudely, watching the blood, thick and sticky, trickle from the wound on her neck.

Patients and doctors were cowering in the corners as she hobbled past them at surprising speed. Every part of her hurt and she was a little dizzy but she ignored it. She passed a laundry cart and rifled though it to find a hospital dressing gown. Relived she threw it on, not wanting her naked backside exposed to the world.

Hospital security was parading the halls but stopped short when they saw the frantic, crazed looked woman with two guns; she held them up high and escaped through the fire exit stairs.

Stumbling down the stone steps, she gritted her teeth, knowing now that she had to get out of this building alive.

She crashed through the door at the bottom of the stairs and smiled, luck was obviously shining on her. She had come down as far as the ambulance station; she felt the fresh cool air of the breeze on her bare legs.

An ambulance was sitting there, open and unmanned, obviously fresh from making a recent drop off. Harley circled the vehicle and immediately spotted the young female paramedic sitting perched on the front seat, legs dangling out of the cab, scribbling notes on a pad. Oblivious the woman continued to write as Harley scraped her dead leg across the ground towards her.

The woman, pretty and blonde, gazed up and jumped in surprise.

"Uhh, Miss you should be inside…"

Harley chewed on her lip and noticed the way the woman was taking in her dishevelled, manic appearance.

"There are lots of places I should be, but here isn't one of them," she held the gun up to the woman's head.

"Wait, please!" the woman begged, but Harley ignored the pleading in her voice and emptied another bullet into the woman's skull.

Dragging her out of the cab, like a rag doll, Harley then hoisted herself into the cab.

"Five," she muttered to herself as she scrambled for the keys and shoved them into the ignition.

The vehicle roared into action and she drove it towards the barrier, which was to her dismay blocked by cops with guns.

She counted them, chewing her already swollen lip.

"Six, seven, eight…nine…dammit, ten!" she muttered.

Swallowing, she hit the gas hard and let of the brakes, letting the huge vehicle steam roller forward.

When the sunshine hit her face and she glanced behind her to see what carnage she had left in her wake, she looked at her leg and saw it was leaking blood. She would have to see to that later, lucky she was driving a ready made first aid kit.

There was one place she was heading, one place she would have to go to get back into the Joker's favour. She had a plan of luring out his little ballerina and he was sure he would approve.

She settled back in the seat and turned on her blue lights, grinning to herself.

It was a long drive to Metropolis.


	7. Chapter 7

**Crazy in Love**

Amelia sipped her tea, the headline from today's newspaper glaring up at her, making a lump form in her throat.

**Gotham buries one of its finest.**

She wiped her eyes as Alfred walked into the room. He saw her pained expression and held out his arms to her.

"I can't believe he's dead," she cried into his shirt front, "And it's all my fault!"

Alfred patted her back softly.

"I think you'll find it's the fault of that raving lunatic, not yours Miss West," he said and she pulled away.

"But if I hadn't of come home…" she said miserably and the older man shook his head.

"Well if you're looking at it that way, we should never have had a party, the Joker should have never escaped from Arkham, Harold Napier should have never held you and your Mother prisoner all those years ago,"

Amelia smiled grimly. "Ok, I see your point,"

"Everything happens for a reason Miss West. Its like destiny, you can't fight it. How do you know that you were not _meant_ to walk in right at that moment?"

Amelia shrugged and returned to her seat at the kitchen counter.

Alfred folded his arms behind his back.

"It seems to me that all of this has happened because of one person. That person is the one who broke our clown friend out of Arkham, _she_ stalked you in Metropolis, _she_ killed your father,"

"Why does she hate me so much?" Amelia thought aloud.

Alfred made a noise that sounded like an 'hmm'.

"I should think that's obvious, Miss West,"

Amelia, Bruce and Alfred had been dumbfounded at the amount of coverage this crazy woman was getting in the news. It seemed that everyday Harleen Quinzell was making herself more and more prominent, racking up a body count to nearly twenty innocent civilians and amazingly the Joker, was no where to be seen.

Now Harlequin, as she was being hailed in the papers, had dropped off the scene entirely and that made Amelia uneasy.

It had been almost a week since the party, a week of being trapped in Bruce's underground apartment. She had to sit there night after night, watching tid bits of news, waiting for her name to be mentioned.

Of course now the whole city knew she was alive and she was bombarded with new, cruel headlines everyday.

**Where is Amelia West? Gotham's Princess Alive. Will Amelia make an appearance at West Burial? Joker Stalks Amelia West. Joker & West Lovers?**

To make the situation even more unbearable, today her father was being buried and she couldn't attend.

Bruce had calmly explained to her the night before that it was a bad idea. The Joker would be waiting for her to make an appearance.

Over the last week, feelings between herself and Bruce were strained to say the least. After that kiss, Amelia had hoped that it would be the last of it. She loved Bruce, she really did, but even if she had no feelings for Jack, she was in no position to be taking on a relationship.

She thought back to her brief encounter with Nathan, the nice, sweet male nurse at her school. Even then her thoughts were conflicted, night after night, dreams of Jack plaguing her, keeping her awake.

That had ended before it had begun. If she couldn't make it work with him, how would she fare with a man like Bruce, who despite being wonderful and handsome was extremely complicated.

The fact that he dressed up as a Bat night after night screamed issues at her and she had enough of her own. What woman would be right for Bruce if _she _wasn't? She realised sadly that she and probably Rachel, had been the only two women in the world who could ever really understand him.

Amelia thought that she had made her feelings clear but that didn't stop the longing looks she kept noticing across the dinner table. It hadn't stopped him sitting slightly too close to her on the couch when they watched television.

The funny thing was, that would have never bothered her before now.

During the day she kept herself busy, read, cleaned the enormous space, and made dinner for them both occasionally, though that seemed to put Alfred out when she did that.

In turn Bruce had offered to teach her a few 'moves' for defence purposes, he'd claimed. Amelia wondered if it was just a chance to spend time with her.

Still the lessons had been useful and she could disarm him pretty easily, though she wondered how much of that was Bruce being kind and letting her win.

Later that afternoon, Abbott West's funeral was being televised and Amelia couldn't bear to watch it. She hauled herself up in her room and sobbed into her pillow.

When she'd cried herself into a deep sleep, loosing a few hours, Bruce had returned and pushed her door open.

"Amelia…wake up!" he whispered urgently and she blinked her eyes.

"What is it?" she asked sleepily.

"There's something you have to see on the news, quickly!"

Groaning she got out of bed and followed him into the living room, where Alfred was standing in front of the television, arms folded and his face grave.

The broadcaster was reading out a bulletin and his fuzzy headed Amelia looked up at Bruce, whose face was tight with stress.

"Bruce, what's going on?"

"Shh," he hushed her nodding at the screen, "Listen,"

"We have just received this video message from what appears to be the Harlequin. Viewers are warned this is quite distressing to watch," the broadcaster said and then the screen flipped to black and white.

Amelia's eyes widened in horror, her hand flew up to her mouth.

"Oh…no…" she whispered.

The video appeared to be of an old factory, but the image was shaking around so much that it was hard to make out. A little girl was bound to a chair, tears streaming down her small face.

"Now, sweetie pie," came the sickly, high pitched voice, "What's your name?"

The little girl choked. "Greta…Williams," she squeaked.

"Do you miss your daddy Greta?" the woman laughed and Amelia shivered.

The woman turned the camera to her face and Amelia heard the sharp intake of breath from Alfred.

The face paint was old and worn but disturbingly familiar. Tracks of thick mascara lashed down the woman's cheeks, making her appear deranged.

"Harley," Bruce whispered, "He really did push her over the edge,"

"Now listen to me you self righteous, little _bitch_," Harley snarled at the camera, "You have to learn some manners. You simply can't have all the men to yourself! The whole world is waiting for the supposedly dead girl to make an appearance and you mustn't disappoint…"

Amelia took Bruce's hand and he squeezed it.

"Little Greta here is all alone in the world…just like I am now you've stolen him away from me. I had to do a bad thing to her daddy, and that's your fault! Show me what a real woman you are…meet me out in the open and we can have a nice girly chat…I'll be waiting, so will Greta,"

The screen returned back to the presenter and Amelia stared up at the two men.

"That's it!" she stood angrily, "I'm not waiting here anymore. Look at what she's done. I can't let her kill Greta,"

Bruce held out his hands. "Calm down!"

"I think I've been amazingly calm considering,"

"I don't think she'll hurt the child Miss West," Alfred added and Amelia laughed.

"How can you be sure? That woman has killed two cops, a nurse, a paramedic and my father…not to mention Greta's father. I can't let this go on!"

Bruce began to pace the room. "Then what do we do Amelia?" he was exasperated.

"I have to ask sir, where the Joker fits into all of this? After the party he has remained very quiet," Alfred asked the unavoidable question.

Where exactly was the Joker?

////

Harley was nursing a bruised jaw. She collapsed on the bed of her apartment, her leg throbbing. Taking the needle, she plunged it into her thigh, reeling from the sudden floaty feeling.

"All better," she muttered.

She stumbled to the door and peered through the crack.

"_Sweetie_," she called nicely, "Please let me out!"

On the other side of the door The Joker was scanning the paper. He took a slug of water and ran a hand through his greasy locks.

He hadn't bargained for this. He hadn't planned on Harley modelling herself so successfully on him. She had taken his plan and turned it on itself, like he was so fond of, chaos erupting in its wake.

He had practically worn a hole in the lounge carpet from pacing. She hadn't made herself hard to find. When she presented the child to him, gagged and bound and looking more bruised than he was comfortable with, she had assumed he'd be so overjoyed.

God, he really had pushed her over the edge! What was worse was that she appeared to be slowly dying. There was a smell about her, like her leg was literally rotting away and he quickly realised it was not a game anymore.

He stole the medical supplies from the back of the ambulance and locked her in her bedroom with them, giving her a smack in the face for good measure, assuming she'd know what to do with the stuff, due to her medical background.

As for the little girl, he untied her bonds, trusting she was afraid enough of him not to do anything stupid. So far so good, but she kept looking at him.

When one of his goons had come bursting through the door earlier, she'd run full pelt at him, gripping his leg for dear life and it had taken him ages to prise her off.

Cute, blonde little thing, he almost felt bad for her.

Right now she was watching him from a corner, her knees pulled up to her chest.

He sat down, cross legged opposite her and she recoiled even further.

"Hey, hey," he clicked his fingers in her face and she winced, "Don't be pulling that face at me…want to see a trick? I can do magic,"

The little girl licked her lips and shook her head.

He cocked a head at her and noticed her dry lips. Scowling he wondered when the last time the kid ate or drank. Harley probably hadn't bothered to give her anything.

"You thirsty petal?" he asked and timidly, she nodded.

He was on his feet and took a mucky glass from the sink, giving it a quick swish around before taking her over a full glass. The girl drank it down greedily.

Harley banged furiously on the door and the child jumped in fright.

The Joker put out his hand. "Its ok, she's not coming out anytime soon,"

"More please," the girl whispered and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm not your slave….what's your name…Gretel?" he quipped.

"Greta," she corrected bravely and he chuckled.

"Greta, _excuse me_," he took a mock bow; "You really aren't that scared of me are you?"

Greta leaned forward as if to whisper something to him and intrigued he leaned closer. She was like a perfect little doll, her pale skin and blue eyes.

"I don't like _her!_" Greta nodded to the bedroom door and the Joker grinned at her.

"I'll tell you a secret….I don't like her much either,"

"She hit me," Greta's eyes filled with tears and he shifted, suddenly very uncomfortable, "She hit me a lot,"

Suddenly the child was crying and the Joker recoiled like he'd seen a snake. He went back to the kitchen counter and pretended to read the paper.

Today had been Abbott West's funeral and he was certain that his darling daughter would make an appearance. But she hadn't.

Nothing was ever easy and he hated the Batman even more venomously for keeping his ballerina from him.

Now Harley had literally dove off the deep end and he was stuck with this little monster that the whole city was probably out searching for.

He sensed movement and flinched, moving the paper aside and seeing Greta's face staring up at him.

"Can I watch cartoons?" she whispered and he swallowed. She reminded him so much of someone.

"Be my guest, Petal," he grinned and nodded towards the television.

"I don't know how to turn it on," she said and he inwardly groaned.

Much to his annoyance, Harley had bought the worst television known to man and after much banging it on the top and fiddling with the dials; he finally got it to work.

"Thanks," Greta smiled, settling herself on the sofa.

The Joker watched her for a minute and then stormed into the bedroom, where Harley was sprawled on the bed. She sat up, her face smiling, like a mad clown, her makeup caked and thick. Sweat was pouring off her like water and he noted that the smell was worse.

He wagged a finger at her.

"You're a naughty girl Harley," he said through clenched teeth, "You certainly know how to spice things up,"

Harley laughed manically; pain was seared across her face.

"Do you like her Hun?" she giggled weakly, "Can I keep her?"

"Harley, I wouldn't let you keep kittens let alone a six year old," he placed his hands on his hips, "However, your little plan should help bring Amelia West out in the open, and for that, I _applaud _you,"

Harley's face twisted in jealously. Thick tears escaped her black eyes.

"Its _still_ all about _her _isn't it?" she screamed, "I'm half dead and all you can think about is her!"

"You _are_ half dead and smell like it. I should be kind and put you out of your misery!" he joked and she bit her lip, wailing on the bed like a banshee.

"I hate you!" she screamed, "And I hate her! If I ever see her I'll kill her myself!"

She crawled off the bed groaning, her hands grabbing at the curtains, drinking in the fresh air.

"I'm going to do the decent thing, believe it or not," he seized her by the shoulders and tossed her back on the bed, "My boys will be here in a while and they'll take you back to Gotham general. And then hopefully, you'll be taken to Arkham, or someplace they can help you,"

He laughed at the irony of his own joke and watched her writhe on the bed in agony.

"_You fucking asshole_!" she screamed, _"I hate you. I wish you were dead_!"

"Honey, _please_!" he chided, "You'll upset the baby,"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Hey everyone, thanks so much again to all of you who have read, reviewed and added me to their lists. It really means a lot. This will be the last chapter for a little while as I'm back at work (sigh) as of tomorrow, but the weekend is only three days away! Keep reading and hope you are still enjoying it! Thanks xx**

**Can't Take My Eyes Off You**

Amelia marched into the Gotham Newsbeat office, her dark hair pinned back and wearing a black shift dress and jacket.

Bruce and Alfred closely followed behind. The reporters and paparazzi had already been waiting outside the building in central Gotham, hundreds of flash bulbs going off in their faces as they climbed out of the limo.

Everyone was keen to get the first pictures of Amelia West, back from the dead.

Amelia, sick and tired of being made to sit tight, made the difficult decision that afternoon and telephoned the Newsbeat office.

Bruce had been livid.

"I tried it your way Bruce," she snapped at him after he made a comment about how she was playing straight into the Joker's hands, "Now it's my turn, and I have to make things right,"

Gail Sebourn, one of the head anchors at Newsbeat greeted her swiftly as she marched in.

"It's a pleasure to have you here Miss West," she said motioning for her to sit down.

"Really, a pleasure?" Amelia shook her head taking a seat behind the desk.

The woman ignored her comment and continued.

"We'll be going live in five minutes Miss West, are you certain of what you want to say,"

She nodded firmly, avoiding Bruce's glare from behind the cameras.

"Live in five, four, three, two," the floor manager called and Amelia stiffened and hoped that he was watching.

"Good evening Gotham," Gail addressed the camera, "We bring you an exclusive, Amelia West's first appearance on American television in a year. She has an appeal to make, over to you Amelia,"

Amelia stared at the camera, her eyes terrified but she knew she was doing the right thing.

"I have no time to explain to you the circumstances of my being here and not dead, like you were led to believe. In time you will get all the answers you need," she began, her voice trembling a little, "But you will be aware of the recent events involving a little girl named Greta Williams. Greta was a dance student of mine in Metropolis, where I have taught for a year. She is six years old and now is an orphan, so you can imagine I feel wholly responsible for what has happened to her. But what has happened has nothing to do with Greta; it is to do with me. I beg you Jack, if you're watching this, please, please don't hurt her,"

Amelia's eyes filled with tears.

"Don't hurt her," she pleaded, "She is an innocent in all this. Don't take your anger for me out on a child. I'm prepared to do whatever you want to get her back. I'll meet you, somewhere we both know, tonight if that's what you want. I'll be there tonight and every night until you hand her back. You know the place; it's where we first danced. You have my promise, that we will be alone, completely alone. Please come Jack,"

The cameras cut from her face and Amelia breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was great, very heart felt," Gail whispered as they went to an ad break, "I'd be delighted to do the whole story when this is all over,"

Amelia sighed deeply and locked eyes with Bruce across the studio.

"When this is all over, I may not be alive to tell the whole story," she replied, wearily climbing to her feet.

She met Bruce and Alfred outside the studio doors, where yet more photographers were waiting to get an exclusive picture of her.

Alfred took her arm. "You did well Miss West,"

"You know he's never going to give the child back," Bruce said harshly and Amelia shot him an angry look.

"Not here Bruce _please_," she hissed as they pushed their way out of the studio and down the narrow corridor.

"He'll have killed her by now," Bruce whispered, "Don't you think I know what he's capable of?"

When the three of them were safely inside the limo Amelia looked at him.

"You can say what you like Bruce," she insisted, "But I believe that Greta's kidnapping has nothing to do with the Joker. You know what he's like! The Joker is a showman; if he took that girl then he'd be parading it all over the news, except he hasn't!"

"That tells us _nothing_!" Bruce cried holding up his hands, "It's just a new level to his game! You are so blinded by your feelings, you can't see it,"

"Bruce I've had it with this ridiculous jealous streak of yours…"

"_Enough_!" Alfred, usually so quiet and calm boomed and the pair of them gasped in shock. Amelia sat back in her seat as the Limo pulled away from Newsbeat Studios.

The older man turned to Bruce who was rubbing his temples, as if a headache was forming there.

"Master Bruce," Alfred said soothingly, "You have to let Miss West handle this her own way. It could be, that she knows this man, better than any of us,"

"Fine," Bruce conceded at last, "But that doesn't mean I'm going to sit at home while you go like a lamb to the slaughter, not while that mad woman is gunning for your blood,"

Amelia leaned forward and gripped his hand tightly.

"I know you wont," she smiled, "But I promised him we'd be alone, and I want your word that we will be. He won't hurt me,"

"You can't guan tee that," Bruce replied stiffly, "How can I protect you when you just are so willing to trust him?"

Amelia smiled softly, knowing how helpless he must feel.

"Bruce, you're Batman. I'm sure you will find a way,"

Amelia left the apartment in a cab a little after midnight. She was bundled up inside her duffle coat and had a scarf wrapped neatly around her neck against the cold.

The cab met her on the side of the road, of course in the middle of no where, seeing how nobody knew that Bruce had a hidden fortress deep inside the forest.

She sat numbly in the back of the car and told the driver to take her to Steeple Park, from there she would walk.

Finally when the cab arrived and her heart was pounding in her chest, she jumped out and watched him drive away.

Her father's old apartment was only a few blocks from here and she hurried quickly along the pavement, preying that Bruce had not followed her.

He had sworn that he wouldn't but she knew that somehow he would have found a way of tracking her.

The thought made her feel slightly safer as she chased along the streets. She was comforted by the fact that some of the bars had not closed and there were still people milling about on the street.

Eventually she reached 57th East, casually referred to by Gothamites at 'Millionaires row', a vast lane of expensive, stone town houses worth millions of dollars each.

Amelia fumbled for the spare key in her pocket and climbed the steps. Once inside, shivering she found the elevator and pushed the button for the twenty second floor. It was surprisingly quick and she wondered at how many people were still awake at this time of night.

It had amazed her that after all the horror that had occurred in her childhood home, her father had never sold it and continued to live in it for years after he divorced her mother.

In recent years, he'd let it out to wealthy business people who worked in the city, but now it was vacant and she was lucky for that.

The car hit the twenty first floor and she swallowed. Was he already here and waiting for her?

The elevator car chimed and she climbed out, gingerly looking over her shoulder.

Holding the key in her trembling fingers, she unlocked the door to her father's old home.

She folded her arms around herself as she stepped inside, dropping her bag in the hallway. Everywhere was dark and all the furniture covered in dust sheets, giving the place an eerie, surreal feel to it.

It had been years since she'd set foot in this building. She closed her eyes and pretended she didn't still hear the sound of her mother screaming from the bedroom.

Ghosts were everywhere and she shuddered, extremely jumpy.

She needed to go upstairs to the ballroom. Feeling her hand along the wall, she found the handle to the door and twisted it.

It groaned, the door obviously not opened in years. She wondered when her father had last used this magnificent room; it had been such a prominent feature of her childhood.

She remembered the beautiful women, the men in their tuxes, the music, the hub bub of the caterers up and down the stairs. She used to hide at the foot of the stairs and listen to the music and the laughter. But then Harold Napier came into their lives and that all stopped.

Rounding the top of the staircase, the polished wooden floor spread out before her like a glass lake, begging to be danced on.

She closed her eyes, her heart thundering in her chest.

"…_Want to dance?..."_

"…_I don't do that…"_

Voices, ghosts from the past greeted her and she wondered again, as she had found herself doing so much lately, what had happened to Jack to make him the way he was?

She took a few steps forward into the middle of the ballroom and suddenly wanted to cry. She remembered the way he'd looked out at the view, marvelling at what a wonderful life she must have, and even then her heart belonged to him. She had wanted in that moment; to show him everything he'd been denied.

But she was a teenager then and a woman now and things were so very complicated. Did that boy still exist under there? Could she still reach him?

The view below, as always took her breath away and she sighed.

"You can see Wayne Towers and everything," came a low voice behind her and she whirled about on her heels.

He was there, hands shoved in his pockets, that dark coat hanging from his frame, giving him that hunched appearance.

"Oh, Jack," she breathed, "You came,"

He chuckled darkly. "How could I refuse such an invitation?"

She was desperate to run into his arms but a little voice to the side of him distracted her.

"Greta!" she cried holding out her arms. The little girl beamed and ran to her and Amelia squeezed her tightly, amazed that she was still all in one piece.

"Your ok!" she laughed, checking her over, "Are you Ok honey?"

"I'm Ok Miss Bruce!" the little girl insisted.

Amelia marvelled that apart from being a bit dirty, the child looked fine, and seemed happy.

"I'm alright now that horrible lady has gone away, Barney sent her away," Greta explained, gazing up at jack and giving him a soppy grin.

The Joker raised his eyebrow at Amelia and shrugged.

Amelia bit her bottom lip. "_Barney_?"

He shrugged again, sucking at the inside of his mouth. "That's what she keeps calling me; apparently it's a fine name for a clown,"

Amelia fought the urge to kiss him, so happy that she had been right the whole time.

"I knew you wouldn't have hurt her," she said, "Everyone said you would have killed her but…"

He held up his hands in mock defence.

"Hey, I have never killed a child," he said, "That I know of,"

Amelia rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm not about to start now either, that just_, isn't_ my bag,"

He looked down at Greta and gave her a reluctant pat on the head.

"Give us a little time petal," he said, "Just wait at the foot of the stairs, ok?"

Greta looked reluctant. "What if she comes back?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "She isn't coming back, not from where I sent her. I _promise_!"

When Greta was safely out of earshot, Amelia shot him a fiery look.

"What did you do to that woman Jack?" she asked her voice low.

He laughed. "What do you care princess? She did after all, kill your daddy,"

Amelia shuddered, amazed at how he could be so cold one minute and so gentle, with Greta the next.

"That woman is your work Jack," Amelia shot at him, "Sure she pulled the trigger but she was a sane woman before she met you!"

He stepped back and grinned manically at her.

"What can I say? I have an effect on women, drives the ladies crazy. _Literally_. Except _you _of course,"

He reached out and grabbed her scarf, pulling her forwards so she lost her balance. Knocking into him, he caught her and held her by her upper arms.

"Remember what happened the last time we were here?" he whispered against her mouth and Amelia closed her eyes, feeling elated and disgusted at the same time.

"Yes," she replied, "Your father butchered my mom,"

He looked down at her, annoyed. "Passion killer," he accused letting her stand up straight, but not letting her arms go.

"We could forget all that," he said giving her a slight shake so she opened her eyes.

She stared up at him helplessly, mesmerised by his gaze. She was so lost against him.

"What do you mean?" she asked. He leaned closer and began trailing kisses along her jaw line.

"Stop that," she pushed at his chest, but all that did was bring him closer, she could feel his breathing under her hands.

"We could run away, now. Just you and me…and Greta if you like, I don't care. We could disappear and nobody would ever know we were gone,"

She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Jack…I barely know you. You don't know me. All we have together is based on a memory we have from when we were kids. I couldn't live off that,"

"Oh, but it was a good memory!" he pouted, "And who needs that whole getting to know each other thing? We have something better, _fire_!"

His mouth crashed onto hers, plundering it with his tongue. His kiss was hard and frantic, helplessly she responded, winding her arms about his neck, drinking him in. She could feel the heat in his body, his need for her increasing every second more.

He broke away and placed kisses all along her throat, any exposed flesh he could lay his hands on.

"Don't pretend to me that you haven't thought about this! It's all I've thought about. We're two of a kind remember?" he breathed in her ear.

Amelia was ready then. Ready to forget everything and let him have her. But then she thought of Bruce and Alfred and then her father. Then she thought of the woman.

With a gasp, she pushed him away.

"Oh ballerina," he chided, "Anyone would think you're a prick tease?"

"Do you love me?" she asked and saw the change of his expression. His eyebrows rose then knitted together in confusion.

"Do I…?"

"You heard! Do you love me? It's a simple question," she asked breathlessly again and he backed away.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, his tongue flicking out to touch the scars briefly.

"Do you love _me_?" he turned the tables on her and she sighed.

"You already know…I told you once before!"

He began to giggle nervously, bringing his fingers up to bite his nails.

"Oh ballerina," he laughed, "You really know how to kill a hard on don't you?"

"Don't be vulgar!" she cried then realised who she was talking to and gave up.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked, pushing past her, his face more serious. He turned to the view out of the window and she watched his shoulders droop slightly.

"I'll tell you why," she went to stand beside him, "because I have to _know_ that all this, is not just your obsession. I have to be sure that you would never hurt me. I have to know that you wouldn't do to me what you've done to that poor woman. And if you truly loved me, you could never do those things,"

He avoided her stare and when he didn't say anything she continued.

"I have to know Jack," she said stepping closer to him, "I have to know for the sake of my own sanity!"

He turned to her, his eyes black and far away.

"And how could I ever prove it to you?" he said tonelessly.

Her heart lifted a little, so sure that he was going to laugh in her face and bring out the knife to try to frighten her.

"You can let me walk out of here with Greta, safe and unharmed. And then you can turn yourself in,"

He opened his mouth in an 'o' of surprise. He winced and hissed through his teeth.

"That's going a little far…ah ballerina, you drive a hard bargain,"

She smiled softly.

"Then just let me go, for now," she said, "Then we can talk about the other issue, like your murdering psychotic tendencies,"

He laughed at that and cocked his head at her.

"And what will you give me in return? For _now_?"

She looked taken back, then leaned forward and kissed him right next to his mouth.

He laughed. "You're kidding right? _That's it_?"

She nodded, the temptation to continue what they were doing earlier hard to resist.

"That's it. For _now_,"

He went to grab her but she ducked out of his reach.

"I thought I'd at least be allowed to have a…"

"Shh!" Amelia hissed as Greta appeared at her side.

"I'm tired," she said, pressing into Amelia's leg and she ruffled her hair with her hand.

"Sorry honey, we're going now. You'd like to come home with me?"

Greta smiled. "And Barney?"

"No, he's staying put. You might see him again one day,"

Probably from behind plate glass, Amelia thought as she took Greta's freezing cold hand.

They turned to leave and Amelia gave him a sad smile.

"Can you let me go?"

"Hmm," he said, staring at his feet, "Only for now. Only this time,"

She was halfway across the room when she heard him clear his throat behind her as if he was going to speak and she turned slowly.

He looked tired, she noticed and his makeup was wearing off in places.

"Just so you know…" he said his voice rising again, "I didn't kill Harley. I wanted to…but I didn't. Thought you should know that…"

His voice trailed off and suddenly she wanted to cry, wanted to be back in his arms, feeling his mouth on hers.

"That's good, Jack," she whispered and led the little girl down the steps. They were outside in the fresh air and she gazed momentarily up at her old building, wondering briefly if he was still admiring the view.

She smiled. He wanted her to know that on some level, he wasn't a complete monster, that maybe, somehow, he could change. It was his own unique way of answering her earlier question.

_I love you too Jack, _she thought before she disappeared into the night with Greta.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Hello everyone. Just a quick chapter, will be adding more tomorrow. Thank you again for all the reviews. Thanks for the song suggestion angelika, that was amazing. Please keep reading and reviewing!! xx**

**Joy Ride**

Alfred pulled the car over by the entrance to Gotham Cemetery, switching the headlights off. Amelia pulled her scarf tighter around her neck and tried to ignore the horrible, sick feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.

It was a little after one in the morning and the ground glistened with a light frost, the streets empty and silent.

Alfred reached across and squeezed her gloved hand.

"Are you ready?" he prompted slowly when Amelia seemed reluctant to get out of the car.

Her eyes ached from all the tears she'd cried earlier and her face felt tight and sore, but she knew that she was making the right choice. She needed closure and more importantly to say goodbye, something from which she had been cruelly prevented.

Paparazzi had been staking out the cemetery during the daylight hours, desperate to get the photo exclusive of Amelia West visiting her father's fresh grave. So up until now, she had not been to visit, afraid of the media circus it would cause.

"I wish Bruce had come," she said sadly and Alfred gave her a knowing smile.

"Batman is busy protecting our city tonight, after all the Joker is still out there somewhere," the older man said wistfully, "I think he regrets loosing the chance to capture him the night we got Greta back,"

Amelia sighed heavily. "It was the only way of getting her back at all, he knows that. Jack-the Joker, wouldn't have met me otherwise,"

Amelia kept catching herself referring to the Joker by his real name and she knew that it made both Alfred and Bruce a little uncomfortable, that she was on first name terms with a wanted criminal.

It had been four days since he had brought Greta back safely to Amelia's old home and she still marvelled at how unaffected the little girl appeared to be. Apart from the odd mention of Barney's magic tricks and how terrified she'd been of Harley, she was happy and in one piece. But Greta was an orphan now and that was because of Harley. Greta was sent back to Metropolis to live with her grandparents and it made Amelia's heart twist in her chest, knowing that reality would soon strike the little girl.

Amelia knew it was time to get out of the car and she gave Alfred a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Are you sure you don't want some company?" he asked again and she shook her head firmly.

"I've got to do this alone," she said, "But thank you,"

"I'll drive around the block a few times, but take as long as you need Miss," he said and she nodded, trying to swallow the lump forming in her throat.

God, she had been a mess the last few days! It made her wonder what she would have done without Bruce and Alfred to support her.

Shutting the car door behind her, she wrapped her arms around the large bouquet of roses she had brought and hurried across the road to the cemetery gates. Slipping inside she was glad of the lamp columns dotted along the stone pathway, the ice coated statues gleaming at her under the night sky. It was almost scarily quiet, the odd animal noise making her jump as she made her way to the West family plot, where only six months ago, her grandmother had been buried.

The ground was crisp with coatings of ice under her feet, her heels sinking a little into the grass as she stood at the foot of the newly dug and filled grave.

Steam escaped her lips as she opened her mouth, her words caught in her throat. She'd wanted to say something, but it felt so unnatural to be stood here, alone talking to herself, her voice didn't sound like it belonged to her.

Instead she closed her eyes and said a prayer, emotion welling up in her chest and finally escaping in the form of a choked sob.

"Oh, daddy," she moaned covering her mouth, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry,"

Self loathing washed over her, a feeling she'd grown used to in the last few days. With Greta gone and Jack dropping off the planet for the time being, her thoughts were her own again and reality had caught up with her. And the reality was that in a very short space of time, she'd lost three members of her family, not to mention Rachel, her best friend only a year ago.

And all of those deaths, other than her grandmother, were somehow related to Jack.

And yet, she still missed him. Why the hell was she still even thinking about him?

Bruce was there for her, but distant. He seemed quiet and depressed, his own loneliness making her feel even guiltier. It made her feel sick to think she could even loose him too.

Amelia laid the flowers on the hard ground, brushing her fingers over the loose earth, her face growing icy cold with wet tears.

"I never meant for any of this to happen," she whispered to the ghosts around her, hoping they could hear her, "I'm so confused. I don't know what I want and I wish you were here to talk to,"

It felt like the barrier had been temporarily lifted and she closed her eyes.

"I do love him," she continued, "And I'm sure there's a boy I remember still under there, but I can't forgive him for what he has become. I can't bear to even contemplate what you must think of me for the way I've behaved, but I cant…I can't help it,"

She broke down and sobbed into her hands.

"You must hate me," she whispered, "If only none of this had ever happened…"

She knew it was useless to think things like that; Alfred had repeatedly drummed it into her.

If only Harold Napier had never taken them hostage, if only her father had paid up the ransom money, things could have been very different. Jack may have even been different.

Her body taken over by violent shivering, she stepped away, wiping her sore, cold cheeks dry. She promised herself mentally that she would come again and she blew a little kiss, forcing down another wave of emotion.

Trudging back along the stone path, her skin suddenly prickled and she whirled around on her heels.

She peered back through the darkness, but there was nothing there but statues, watching her sadly.

Turning back to the path, she saw the two black figures ahead, their clown masks leering at her and her stomach dropped, her heart leaping into her throat.

Somehow her brain couldn't make her feet work fast enough, her heels slipping on the icy ground as she turned to run.

A scream escaped her lips too late as she ran full pelt into two more goons in masks, grabbing her arms roughly.

Her feet skidded along the path as they dragged her. A bag was forced over her head and one of them tried to force a gag in her mouth. Shrieking in fright, she angrily bit down on his hand as hard as she could, satisfied at hearing his own howl of pain.

"Little bitch!" he growled and Amelia still in complete darkness was suddenly on her back, her head cracking the cold stone. He kicked her sharply in the stomach and she howled in pain, a white hot explosion over taking her.

She heard a scuffle and one of them cried,

"Just get her to the van….you shouldn't have done that Fraser!"

"The little whore bit me…"

"The boss won't like it!"

"Then don't fucking tell him!" he kicked her again and Amelia let out a cry of agony. It felt like being sliced in two, her breath literally knocked out of her.

God where was Alfred? Why had she come alone?

If it was possible to hate herself even more than she already did, at that moment she was filled with rage at her own stupidity. Of course Jack would have been waiting for her to make a careless move like this.

Like a ragdoll, she was hauled across the ground, her jeans ripping, someone finally pulling her to her feet.

After a few minutes of blindly stumbling along, she heard what sounded like a van door sliding open.

"Well look at what we have here, my very own ballerina doll to play with," said a familiar voice and her heart sank.

Someone pulled off the bag and she blinked, her vision blurred.

The Joker was standing there in the open door of the van, his arms folded casually as if he were checking out a brand new car. Lovingly he stroked her face and pinched her cheeks. His face makeup was worn and cracked, like black tears were streaking down his white face.

"Beautiful ain't she boys?" he admired and Amelia was suddenly more angry than afraid.

"You said you'd let me go!" she shot at him, the venom in her own voice surprising even her.

He rolled his eyes at her. "I said I'd let you go, for _now._ But what can I say? I got bored,"

He was suddenly up close, too close for her to look anywhere but at his scared face. He touched her face lightly, noticing her tears stained there. He ran his gloved hand down her arm and then rested it lightly on her stomach, where she winced from the swelling already developing there.

An odd look appeared in his eyes and he took his hand away, his eyes never leaving hers. He folded his arms behind his back and walked away.

"It looks like my ballerina was taken out of her box already," he said slowly and Amelia heard one of the goons mutter something under their breath.

"_Who did it_?" he growled suddenly with such an unusual ferocity that Amelia shuddered. She had never heard his voice sound like that before.

One of the men began to stutter.

"Boss…I'm sorry…she bit me!"

The Joker broke into a hit of hysterical laughter, throwing back his head.

"Oh did she?" he mocked, "Did the _little kitten_ bite you a bit too hard? So you thought it was _Ok _to kick the little kitten in the stomach?"

Amelia was sure that the man was sweating under his mask, despite the freezing cold.

"Boss, it was a mistake, it won't happen again," he babbled but it was too late.

The Joker reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. Amelia immediately struggled against the man holding her up, her legs weak.

The man yelled out a cry but the shot drowned him out. His insides exploded from the wound and he tumbled backwards.

Amelia looked away, breathing hard. The Joker paced up and down in front of the other men.

"Alright boys, get out of here and create a distraction worthy of a Bat's attention….don't want him turning up unannounced," he laughed and took Amelia's arm, dragging her against him.

He looked at her and winked.

"Hey pretty," he kissed her cold lips too swiftly for her to pull away, "Missed me?"

The men dispersed and when they had gone she flew at him angrily.

"You couldn't even let me visit my father's grave!" she yelled, tears welling up, wanting to rip his hair out. He wrestled her arms back down to her sides, surprised at her sudden strength.

She pulled away, too weak to run anywhere and perched on the step of the van. Pain washed over her and she lifted her shirt to reveal the swollen skin covering her ribs, a bruise darkening there.

"You ruin everything," she muttered, breathing hard, her eyes momentarily flicking to the dead man on the ground.

He clapped his hands above her head, making her look up at him.

"Well I'm going to make it all up to you!" he smiled broadly, "That's why I'm here you see…we are going on a road trip,"

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Jack…please…a road trip? Where?"

"I can't ruin the surprise Ballerina," he wagged a finger at her.

Amelia rubbed her eyes. "Why are we going on this trip?" she hated to ask.

"Well, you said something the other night that got to me….you said that we knew nothing about each other…and well, you're right. So I thought it was about to time to spend some, _quality_ time together,"

Amelia was suddenly so tired, too tired to argue.

"You know this is not what I meant," she sighed.

He suddenly looked annoyed and grabbed her face between his fingers.

"Well how else am I supposed to get your attention?" he growled, "I played nice didn't I? I didn't hurt the kid and I let you go…now I want my reward,"

Amelia twisted away from him, fighting the urge to laugh at his strange logic.

"You want a _reward _for not hurting a little girl that you kidnapped? You're crazy!"

He pulled a face at her for that remark.

"Err…no I'm _not _and I'll repeat myself _again,_ the kid, not my deal ok? That was Harley!"

Amelia stood weakly knowing that this situation was hopeless.

"Fine," she said defeated, "You win; I'll go with you,"

He nodded his approval at her decision.

"Good choice Ballerina," he gestured to the open van door, "Not that you _had_ one. Your chariot awaits,"

Amelia climbed in. It was filthy in the back of the van, but she climbed onto a blanket and felt around and her hand found a pillow.

"How good of you to put a mattress in the back for me," she quipped, sarcasm creeping into her voice and he climbed into the front seat, slamming the door loudly.

"Only the best for my ballerina," he giggled, "Now you better sleep…it's a long drive to Basin City,"

Amelia put her aching head down on the pillow and closed her eyes, knowing that for the time being this was her fate and she had to accept it. Although he claimed it was merely for them to get to know each other, she knew that there must be something more in Basin City, and wondered anxiously what awaited her there.


	10. Chapter 10

**Anything for Love**

It was three in the morning when Jim Gordon trudged into the station down town; his coat zipped up to the neck and a coffee in hand.

One of his Officers, a young, red haired young man was waiting for him outside the interrogation room.

Officer Wilkes looked up as the commissioner approached, his older face creased with worry.

Gordon stopped at the desk and rubbed his eyes.

"Has she said anything yet?" he asked wearily. Officer Wilkes shook his head.

"No, sir," he answered, "To be honest, she's so high on medication, I don't think anything she said would make such sense,"

Gordon sighed. "That's for us to find out. She is the only one who may know where the Joker has taken Amelia West,"

It had been two hours since Amelia had disappeared from Gotham Cemetery. Every available police officer in the city was already out or had been called out to comb the streets, looking for any evidence of her whereabouts.

The Joker's goons had done a good job of creating a diversion down at Gotham Town Hall, keeping all eyes on them, while their boss absconded with the city's most famous society girl.

Gordon peered through the small square window in the interrogation room door and gritted his teeth. The woman hunched over the small table looked exhausted and dishevelled, her blonde hair dirty and greasy, her skin pallid and white appeared stretched over her bones. It almost hurt Gordon to look at her, she appeared so ill. He knew how close she had come to loosing her life, her leg seriously infected, weak, half starved and raving mad; she'd been dumped on the doorstep of Gotham general a few days ago, left to die.

Still dressed in her hospital gown, she raised her head as Gordon unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Her lips curled into a smile and she giggled.

"What do I owe this pleasure?" her voice was a whisper, "I was in bed when you called me in here,"

"I realise you're unwell," Gordon said, "But Amelia West has disappeared and we believe you may know where she is,"

The woman's face changed. "Why would I care what happens to her?"

"I know you don't care about her," Gordon nodded, "But I know you care about him,"

Her head snapped up. "I _do_ care!" she cried, her eyes welling up, "Why can't he see that?"

Gordon held up his hands.

"Miss Quinzell, believe it or not we are not here to discuss your feelings for Jack Napier. We need to know where he is, or if you can give us any idea of where he might take her,"

Harleen licked her thin lips.

"Your cooperation with the search will help your case, _believe_ me," he enticed further but she merely laughed.

"Lock me away commissioner!" she sang, her crooked smile broadening, "Because _believe_ me, if I ever get my hands on her, the last thing you'll be worrying about is the Joker,"

Slightly rattled Gordon left the room, her child like voice still singing in his head.

He met Officer Wilkes outside the door.

"Urr, sir," he began, looking slightly pale, "There's someone here to see you, in your office,"

Gordon shut his office door quietly behind him and turned to the black figure in the corner.

"Anything?" Batman said, his voice low.

Gordon raked a hand through his hair. "She's deranged," he answered.

"I'm sure you can persuade her," Batman thought aloud, "There must be someway of getting her to talk?"

Gordon sat at his desk and nodded to the file on his desk. He knew that the masked vigilante stood before him was essentially good, but it still didn't quell the creeping feeling he always got when he was around. The Batman persona still as intimidating as it ever was.

"When we leaned the identity of the 'Harlequin', we were able to get our hands on a file that Doctor Quinzell kept on the Joker," he gestured to the file, "She managed to get her hands on all sorts of information. Harold Napier's birth certificate is in there, old school records, tax bills, it's endless. There is also quite a large section dedicated to the whole West case back in '93,"

Gordon opened the file and began rifling through the various documents.

"Did you find anything on the Joker?" Batman asked folding his arms.

"Oddly no, he remains, as ever, an enigma," Gordon sighed.

Batman ran his hands through the documents. "Its all useless if we can't find a lead,"

Gordon looked at him and placed his hand on what looked like a worn brown envelope that was mixed in with the file. He opened it and pulled out a very cleanly folded piece of paper and handed it to Batman.

He scanned it. "A birth certificate?" he murmured.

"Do you know that name?" Gordon asked, "Because so far out of this file, this is the only piece of evidence that I can't make out,"

Batman read and re read the certificate. He swallowed, something becoming startlingly clear. The name of the birth mother was Sarah Giles.

He did recognise that woman's name.

"Siren West was a stage name," he said suddenly, "Sarah Giles was Siren's real name,"

Gordon raised his eyebrows. "Well if that's true, that certificate says that in 1994, she gave birth to a baby girl, father unknown,"

"Harley must have known about this," he said, shock coursing through him, "I have to talk to her,"

Gordon laughed shortly. "Good luck with that,"

When the door to the interrogation room banged open again, Harley lifted her head but was not met with the appearance of the weary faced Jim Gordon. Instead, she jumped back in her seat, her eyes fastened to the menacing figure in front of her.

He threw the certificate down on the table in front of her.

"Quite an interest in the West case?" he growled at her and she swallowed.

"You have to learn everything you can about your opponent," she said, lifting her chin slightly despite her hands trembling, "Even you must understand that?"

"I understand it," he replied, his black eyes never leaving her, "What do you know about Sarah Giles?"

Harley's lips pressed into a thin line. "She wasn't what she seemed," she grinned, "And like mother like daughter, she couldn't be trusted,"

"What are you saying?" he growled, banging his fists on the table so that she visibly shrank back.

"I'm saying that the whole case was a lie! The whole 'hostage' situation was a fake. Napier was just getting revenge," Harley spat at him, her eyes furious.

Batman slid his hands closer to her across the table and watched her recoil. He was aware of the effect he was having on her, she looked very uncomfortable, folding her arms across her chest.

"Tell me," he snarled at her, "You have my attention. That's what you crave isn't it? Attention?"

Her eyes flickered with rage. "Not from _you_,"

He pushed the piece of paper closer to her.

"Did Napier know Siren West before he took them hostage? Is that what this certificate tells us?" he asked again.

"Oh, he knew her," she chided a sly smile playing across her lips.

"How?" Batman asked, "How could Siren West have _ever_ known Harold Napier?"

"Try digging a little deeper," Harley smiled, "There's more to this story than a random birth certificate,"

"_Doctor _Quinzell," Batman used her formal title and watched her flinch as if the sound of the formal name physically hurt her, "Does the Joker know about the connection? Is this why he's taken Amelia West?"

The mention of Amelia's name seemed to wipe the grin off Harley's face, once again her eyes clouded over with hate.

"Lets just say that the Joker and the girl have more in common than a childhood romance, but I'm not telling….you'll have to figure the rest out for yourself,"

Batman stood, the chair scraping across the floor as he did. He watched the wide eyed blonde woman, feeling pity and frustration well up at the same time.

It left him wondering what kind of hold the Joker had over this woman's mind. Worryingly the same hold he had over Amelia.

"Why are you protecting him?" he asked before turning to leave, "Hasn't the way he's treated you told you anything? Look at yourself!"

Harley purred to herself drumming her nails on the table top.

"You'd do anything for the one you love," she smiled slowly, with a touch of bitterness.

Batman shook his head at her and banged on the door to be let out by the guard.

"Love makes you blind," he said to her and she shrugged, leaning her head back down on the table, her eyes closing.

Gordon met him outside the room.

"She's about as frustrating as the Joker," Gordon quipped, "But it certainly isn't a connection I would have ever imagined before?"

Batman held up the birth certificate.

"Siren West was involved with Harold Napier before the hostage situation in 1993, which means everything we know about that case is a lie. Everything Amelia _believes _is a lie," he thought aloud, "We need to find the missing piece, and we need to find Amelia,"

They were interrupted by Officer Wilkes bursting through the door. He stopped abruptly when he saw Batman.

"It's alright," Batman reassured the younger boy, "What do you know?"

Nervously the officer addressed both of them.

"Sir, a squad car has picked up one of the Joker's men. We have him in one of the holding cells, but he's not talking,"

"He'll talk to _him_!" Gordon nodded at Batman, "Good job Wilkes,"

Batman stalked towards the holding cells. He felt unnerved and slightly disturbed at the new information.

Amelia knew nothing of this connection between her mother and Harold Napier, he was certain of it. Harley was suggesting that Siren and Napier had a previous history. Could this have been the reason why Abbott West had done nothing to help his wife all those years ago? That part of the case had always baffled him, how a man could stand by and know that one he loved was trapped in a horrible situation. But maybe there was more going on than anyone ever realised.

Bruce prepared to go into the holding cell, determined to get more information from this man than he could from Harley. He felt useless and the loss of control bothered him, desperate to know where Amelia had disappeared to. Anger boiled inside him, welling up in his throat and he banged his fist on the wall, the noise echoing around him.

In a way he could relate to the poor mad woman in the cell. Her twisted, bitter smile still burning in his memory.

He too would do anything for the one he loved.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Just a quick update, sorry it's not that long but I'm working on it! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, particularly Buffy sparrow, angelika04, haylybaby, neon coloured socks and ryuzaki25. It really means a lot that you would take the time to review. Hope your still enjoying! xx**

**Puppet on a String**

"Wake up, wake up little ballerina," a voice crept into her dreams. Amelia groaned and opened her eyes, only to wish she hadn't.

Every part of her body was in agony, her neck, her hips, her back, even her head felt sore. Then she realised it was probably because she'd spent the last six hours being bumped along in the back of a van on a mattress that had metal springs digging into her body.

She twisted her head, the shock of Jack being so close to her making her give a little yelp of surprise.

He stretched next to her and she blushed, wondering at what part of the journey he'd climbed into the back.

He leaned closer and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth and she scowled at him.

"Where are we?" she said, immediately awake. She tried to sit up but pain exploded in her ribs from where she'd been so violently kicked the night before.

She saw his face change slightly when she winced and was surprised when he grabbed her under the arms and dragged her into a sitting position.

"Sleep well?" he laughed moving away from her, sitting cross legged on the other end of the mattress.

She rubbed her head. "Like a dream," she said sarcastically, "Where are we Jack?"

"Only the best hotel money can buy," he said slipping his large coat back on over his shoulders, "Or actually their parking lot. You want a shower?"

Amelia raised an eyebrow at him, stretching out the kinks in her lower back.

"Can I have one?" she asked. That did sound like a good idea. She was sweaty and uncomfortable in her sweater and jeans.

He grabbed the lever for the sliding door and it groaned loudly as it pulled open, sunlight streaming into the small dark space, making her blink.

Amelia peered outside and realised that they actually were in a parking lot. And to her horror, they appeared to be in Basin City.

It was a place that she had never visited before nor ever wanted to, but that didn't stop the stories about it that reached Gotham. It was a dead town, a twisted, miserable place that was run by the mob. Nothing lasted in this city, whilst Gotham had its seedy underbelly; Basin City had no redeeming qualities. It was dark, dank and miserable.

She climbed out of the van and looked up at the motel the Joker had parked outside and was almost grateful that she had been in the van with him. The place was a concrete block, stretching up to the sky, its walls littered in graffiti.

She rubbed her arms. "I take it in there is where the shower is?" she swallowed.

The Joker jumped out beside her and flicked his knife out of his pocket, its blade glinting in the sunlight.

He pulled a bag out of the back of the van and threw it over his shoulder.

"Come on," he nodded to her and she followed.

He led her round the back of the building, where there was a door, partially kicked down. He finished off the job and she bit her lip, the memory of being so violently kicked by one of his men, flooding back to her.

They went into the stair well and she wrinkled her nose at the smell of stale alcohol and urine.

They seemed to go up the stairs forever until finally, out of breath they stopped on the fifth floor.

The Joker stopped at a door, grey and peeling with paint. He took out a key and jammed it roughly in the lock and she was surprised when it opened for him.

"You made me sleep in the van and you had a key to this place the whole time?" she accused and he laughed at that.

"Honey, trust me," he mocked her, "You were better off in the van!"

When they stepped over the threshold Amelia instantly got it. The smell of the room was vile, like rotting food and excrement mixed together. She gagged.

"You'll get used to it," he said when he saw her face, "The shower is through there,"

"You've got to be kidding right?" she cried, covering her mouth with her hand, afraid of retching, "This is disgusting, I'm not washing my hands in here let alone showering!"

He looked annoyed and unzipped the bag, emptying its contents on the bed. To her amazement she saw clean clothes, shower gels and perfume. There was also a bag of makeup and she wondered distantly if it had belonged to Harley.

"It's not the Hilton, I know," he waved his hand around the dank, carcass of a motel room, "But I'm _not _asking again. Shower and make yourself pretty, we have a place to be in an hour," he rummaged in the bag and pulled out what looked like a black dress, "You can wear this!"

Staring at him angrily she snatched the dress away and gathered up the items in the bed. Amelia groaned as she poked her head around the bathroom door. It was so far removed from Bruce's penthouse it was untrue.

She leaned in to the tub and began to run the shower, waiting for it to heat up. She saw her reflection in the stained mirror and she looked a complete wreck. Her hair was matted, her eyes black with mascara runs. The room began to steam up nicely and she slipped off her jeans. She lifted off her sweater and then gingerly undid the buttons of her shirt.

Amelia cast a tentative glance down at her ribs and a cry escaped her lips. They were black. She touched the swelling with trembling fingers and winced, biting her lip.

Suddenly the horror of the whole situation hit her like a brick wall and she began to cry, hot tears stinging her face.

"What are you crying about now?" came an angry, tired voice behind her and she gasped, whirling about, not expecting to see him standing there.

Pain exploded in her side again and she doubled over, covering her mouth, the fact that she was in her underwear not an issue at this point.

She wiped her eyes. "Its hurts so much," she said through gritted teeth, "I don't think I can get in,"

Jack's face was like a stone cast, showing no pity or remorse even if he could feel it.

"Put your foot on the side of the tub," he snarled, obviously uncomfortable with her pain, "I'll lift you in,"

"No," she shook her head, "It's too painful, _please _I just want to go home,"

She covered her face with her hands and suddenly she was crying, desperate, frustrated tears. She felt him move closer and her forehead was resting against his chest. His gloved hand moved up her back and through her hair, in a way oddly comforting.

"Well ballerina, _you can't_ go home," he said in a low, ordinary voice, "So you'll just have to get used to it,"

He hauled her roughly into the tub and her feet skidded along the wet surface. She squeezed her eyes shut as the spray hit her face, the hot water stinging her skin.

"_Its too hot_!" she cried, trying to move away, the water scolding her. He jumped in the tub and leaned across her, fiddling with the dials, until the water cooled slightly.

"Better?" he laughed, throwing back his head, opening his mouth and swallowing the water, getting soaked in the process. The water quickly seeped through his shirt, darkening the fabric.

Weakly she nodded, trying to ignore the bizarre feelings she was experiencing, suddenly aware that she was standing in front of him in soaked underwear.

"Ok, get out of here…I'll be alright," she muttered, trying to cover herself with the shower curtain but he stood there, arms folded, not moving and eyeing her up and down.

"Don't I get to stay and watch you soap yourself up?" he giggled and she shoved him away.

"Go away!" she yelled and he laughed, jumping out of the tub.

Ten minutes later, feeling marginally better Amelia was rifling through Harley's makeup bag and trying to do something with her swollen, sore face.

She brushed through her wet hair and towelled it dry and then turned to the clothes the Joker had brought for her.

She raised an eyebrow and sighed. In the bag was a pair of lacy black pants and a matching bra. The dress was silk and the purest black. It was shorter, much shorter than she would have ever chosen but it fit well, hugging her small frame tightly.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, he was sitting cross legged on the bed, the TV on low. He whistled his appreciation.

"Nice," he said through his teeth, "I know how to pick women's fashion!"

Amelia folded her arms. "Its too short," she muttered, "I'll be freezing,"

"Yes, but I can see your legs, which is the whole point!" he laughed bouncing off the bed towards her, "If we didn't have somewhere to be I'd be happy to show you how much I…"

She pushed him away when he got to close and he pulled a face at her.

"Relax ballerina," he laughed, running a hand down her bare arm, "You just bring out the animal in me is all!"

Amelia blushed crimson. "Well stick it in a cage! Where are we going anyway?"

He clapped his hands together.

"Tell me Ballerina…do you remember the card game I taught you all those years ago?"

She shrugged. "Poker? Yes, kind of,"

"Well there is a big game going on over the other side of town. A big, juicy game and I need to be there and I need to win!"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "You brought me out here for a poker game?"

He stepped closer to her again and reached for her face. He grabbed the back of her neck and forced her face closer to his.

"Ballerina…I hate sarcasm, it's the lowest form of wit. _Please _wipe that bored look off your face before I do it for you. We are going to have fun today…you need a little fun in your life,"

Amelia pulled away roughly, his hand catching in her hair.

"Fine, whatever," she admitted defeat, "Just tell me what to do,"

Half an hour later she was sitting in the front of the van. He had told her nothing of what she was to expect, only that she had to shut up and look pretty. Basin City appeared to be in a permanent state of night. It could only have been mid morning, yet the sky was black and leaden, giving the place an eerie night time feel. She expected that was because the place was engulfed by the fumes from the power station that loomed on the horizon, like a permanent enemy watching over the city.

He took the van along a strip of road that was littered with ramshackle looking casinos.

They stopped and Amelia looked outside.

"We're here honey," he sang kicking the van door open. Amelia tumbled out and straightened her dress.

He threw his arms around her shoulder, dragging her around the back of the casino. She could hear the sound of the slot machines from inside the front entrance but he was taking her down a narrow alley way, littered with dumpsters.

Roughly he pushed her up against the wall of the alley and crashed his mouth on hers. She groaned against his mouth, the kiss as always too hard and bruising. She struggled but he forced his tongue in her mouth and weakly she conceded, feeling that familiar heat exploding inside her.

He pulled away and nipped her bottom lip with his teeth.

"I've been wanting to do that _all_ day," he breathed, then changed the subject quickly making her head spin, "Now wipe that frightened look off your face. You're my girl tonight and you have to watch my back,"

Amelia couldn't help but look frightened.

"Watch your back? But Jack…"

He pinched her cheek hard, his body still pinning her to the wall.

"And _don't _call me that either!" he snapped, "There are men in there who wont want to loose to a guy like me. They won't take kindly when we leave with all their hard stolen cash; you have to keep an eye out, watch my back,"

She shook her head. "I don't want to do this. I've heard things about this place…what makes you so sure they won't kill you?"

He giggled. "Nothing makes me sure.. that's the fun of the game. But this was my town long before they got here and I know these guys and how they _think._ If you can call it thinking!"

He was pressing something into her hand and when she looked down she saw a small black hand gun.

"That's for you…don't be afraid to use it. Just _not _on me, Ok?" he said, stroking her face with his gloved fingers.

He really did look frightening she realised. His painted, grinning face glowed in the darkness of the alley. It amazed her at how quickly she could forget how he looked.

"How do you know you're going to win?" she spluttered nervously, desperate not to go inside.

He smiled at her like she was a silly child. "I told you didn't I? I can do magic,"


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hello and thank you to everyone who has reviewed the last couple of chapters. Special thanks to Buffy sparrow, angelika, hermonie and bronze star. I'm a bit nervous about this chapter as this is kind of the one I've been building towards for a while. Please let me know your thoughts, they are always appreciated. Hope you're still all enjoying this, I love writing it! xx**

**Comfortably Numb**

Amelia sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap. She bit on her bottom lip and glanced warily around the room. There were six other men. One of which she knew she'd seen recently on various news reports, the others, their faces quite recognisable.

It took her several minutes to realise that she was sitting in a room with seven of the most dangerous men in America, one of which, her grinning clown was the one who had brought her here.

After roughly kissing her in the alley and making sure she had the gun securely tucked away in her dress, Jack had marched her round the back of the building, where a red, peeling door waited open for them.

Amelia had smelt the alcohol and cigarette smoke through the crack in the door and her heart had leapt up into her throat.

A broad, balding man, answered the door, his eyes shining with recognition when he saw Jack.

"Well, well," he grinned, revealing gold teeth, "Little Jackie Napier, come home to play with the big boys, have we?"

Jack had shot him a warning look and pushed past him into the hallway.

"Room for one more Vito?" he said and the older man eyed him warily.

"Still have a liking for pretty brunettes I see," he nodded towards Amelia who instinctively moved towards Jack, "We may have an extra seat but it'll cost you, the last time you played with me and Silvio you didn't play nice,"

The Joker laughed, hissing through his teeth and he threw his arm Amelia's shoulders.

"Poker is my game, Vito," he shrugged as they followed the man through the winding corridor, "Can I help it if I clean you boys out every time?"

Amelia held her breath, the sight before her making her eyes widen. The front of the club was a strip joint, and was met with the sight of naked woman running back and forth from the stage to their dimly lit dressing rooms.

She should have known better and caught the other man glaring at her dangerously.

"Your woman looks like she thinks she's a cut above the rest of us," Vito growled and before she knew it he had pulled her into his arms.

She leaned away from him as he automatically grabbed her backside, trying to resist the urge to slap him.

The Joker took her hand and pulled her back to his side, relieved she gripped his hand tightly.

"No touching Vito," Jack warned, a small laugh escaping his lips, "She's not for you, she's for Silvio,"

Amelia stared at him in horror opening her mouth to speak but Jack landed a kiss on her to shut her up. He winked at her and she calmed down, hoping and preying that this was all part of the game.

"This way," Vito wagged his finger at them and they followed to the back room, where the five other men were waiting amongst a cloud of smoke.

They all looked up when Jack entered the room, their eyes widening in shock. It seemed that wherever he went, the Joker was a force to be reckoned with. Amelia could see the fear flicker in their eyes and she didn't know why, but she found that oddly comforting.

A man with thick grey hair stood and held out his arms. He appeared similar to Vito, his face worn and old, the remains of a tan still staining his skin.

"Jackie," the older man approached the Joker and thumped him hard on the back, "Look at _you _all grown up, still smiling I see?"

The men laughed nervously and Amelia noticed the black look Jack shot at him.

"Oh that's a permanent feature Silvio," Jack ran his hands over his scars, "You'd know all about that. Still have all your hair?"

The older man let out a laugh and punched Jack's shoulder again.

"Little Jackie Napier and his big mouth, couldn't keep a thought in his head without having to say it out loud,"

Jack sucked on the inside of his mouth, looking more and more displeased.

"So, heard much from your buddies lately in Gotham?…I heard that Carmine's condition is improving in Arkham…"

It then dawned on Amelia where she knew these men from. They were members of the Falcone family. Vito and Silvio Falcone were related to Carmine and Salvatore. They were part of a mob family, that up until Harvey Dent had become the city's DA, had pretty much moved about the city and did whatever they wanted.

She then noticed Silvio eyeing her approvingly and she backed away.

"Who is this little piece of ass?" he glowered, touching a strand of her dark hair, "A present for me?"

"Of course," Jack smiled broadly, "I knew I couldn't get in the game for nothing…after the last time I hoped you weren't still in a bad mood with me?"

Silvio licked his lips and went to grab Amelia's arm, but luckily Jack pulled her out of his reach.

"Uh, Uh, be nice Silvio…she's shy. You can have her _all _to yourself after the game, but for now she stays with me. She's my good luck charm,"

The men all jeered and Amelia felt the heat rising in her face. She had never felt more exposed and humiliated in her whole life; the urge to burst into tears was hard to fight down. She wished she had something to cover her legs, her exposed cleavage; she felt utterly degraded and couldn't stand the way they were staring at her.

She sat numbly behind Jack, watching him over his shoulder as he played. She had never understood the game of poker but soon began to understand his body signals. She could see his cards from where she sat so closely behind him and could tell if he had a good or a bad hand from the way his shoulders tended to move up and down.

"So Jackie," Silvio addressed him as a waitress entered the room and began dealing out more alcohol, "Been making quite a name for yourself in Gotham City I hear? I never had you pegged for criminal mastermind, but it seems that's what you're turning into,"

"Hmm," Jack made a bored noise and Amelia sucked her breath in, her thoughts turning to Rachel, "I get bored easily Sill, you know that,"

"Who would have thought that when you were a skinny little scrap running around after your daddy…that you would turn into…_this,_" Vito laughed and Amelia watched Jack's shoulders, wishing she could read his facial expression.

"Well I owe all _this,_ to you Silvio," Jack hissed, "You made me the man I am today, _thank you_,"

"Had many run ins with the Bat?" one of the other men dared to ask and Jack shrugged.

"He likes to interfere with things that don't concern him," he answered tonelessly.

It was then Amelia noticed his hand. She wasn't completely sure but she was certain that it had to be the best hand you could have in a game of poker. She shifted in her seat and tried to keep her face relaxed. She thought it was called a straight flush.

"How was life in the loony bin?" one of the other men cajoled him and she saw his shoulders stiffen.

"Dull," Jack answered, his tongue clicking.

"I heard you used a female doctor to get you out!" the man laughed, "Jesus even with _that _face you manage to seduce the ladies,"

Jack laughed at that. "What can I say? Women love bad men, it's just in their nature. Isn't that right ballerina?"

He threw his head back and winked at her and she gave him a faint smile.

The game intensified and smoke rose from the table. Three of the men folded and soon the stakes were high and a lot of money was riding on the Joker's gamble.

Amelia felt hot and uncomfortable in her seat, the smoke in the room making her eyes sting. Soon it was down to the Joker and Silvio.

"Ok, what have you got?" the Joker called him and with a self satisfied grin Silvio presented his hand.

"Four of a kind," Silvio grinned and Amelia swallowed hard.

Jack laughed hysterically. "Is that it?" he cried throwing down his cards, "Take a look at my straight flush and weep!"

Silvio's face darkened with anger.

"Well, well," he gritted his teeth, "Despite that stupid grin your poker face has improved…too bad that you cant claim your winnings today. You still owe me for last time!"

The Joker stood abruptly, his chair flying back. The other six drew out their guns and Amelia's stomach back flipped.

"Oh, I had a feeling that you wouldn't play nice Silvio," Jack grinned manically and opened his coat, "That's why I brought my eight friends,"

Amelia gasped at the sight of what looked like eight grenades fastened to the inside of his purple coat. Her hand reached for her gun but someone grabbed her around the waist.

"Not so fast Jackie boy," Vito hissed in her ear, his vodka breath making her gag, "Do anything dumb and I'll blow your girl's head off, understand?"

The Joker's eyes locked with Amelia's. She let out a helpless cry as the older man squeezed her bruised ribs. Jack's face was unreadable as usual and she willed him to do something.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she squeezed them shut. There was a sound of a bullet cracking through the air and bodies were flying at each other. The Joker kicked Vito roughly in between the legs and Amelia fell forward crashing into the table.

Grabbing her gun she aimed it at Silvio's head and grabbed Jack's arm.

Jack was busy pounding Vito's body to a lifeless pulp.

"Come _on_!" she screamed and they were out of the door, flying along the corridor. A window pane exploded next to Amelia's head and she ran, Jack giggling as he followed closely behind. Bullets shot through the air, narrowly missing them as they ran. The bouncer on the door saw them hurtling towards them and reached for his own gun, but Jack took a shot at him and the man cried out flying backwards. Kicking him mercilessly out of the doorway, the pair of them fell through it and into the dank alley way.

Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her against him, his mouth on hers.

"Jesus…not _now _Jack!" she cried pushing him away, "We have to run!"

It started to rain as their feet slapped up the alley way. Jack never let go of her hand as they flew through the city streets, ignoring the strange looks from passersby as they ran. Amelia's chest was tight and she soon felt exhausted but Jack just laughed manically.

He led her through another long winding alley, which opened up onto a dock. The tide was coming in and he pulled her down under the boardwalk, their feet immersed in cold, dirty sea water.

"Ok, stop!" she cried unable to breath. She collapsed onto the gravel and he fell down beside her, almost crying with laughter.

"That was fantastic!" Jack howled, "Did you see Silvio's face when I showed my hand? He really wasn't expecting that!"

Amelia sat up and punched his arm. "He could have killed me!" she cried angrily.

He looked at her, breathless still and giggled.

"Look at you; all sweaty and dirty…you've never had so much fun in your life,"

"Being shot at is _not _my kind of fun!" she yelled, trying to stand but he grabbed her wrist so that she fell back down on her bottom with a thud.

Amelia wanted to cry with frustration but with him giggling next to her like a lunatic she was finding it difficult to concentrate.

"_Shut up_!" she yelled, "_Stop laughing_!"

"Oh honey, I'm not laughing at you, just with you!" he ruffled her hair with what she supposed was affection.

"I hate you!" she cried her eyes filling with tears and suddenly he stopped laughing. He jumped on top of her, straddling her waist and she had no time to cry out before his mouth was on hers.

Angrily, she pushed him away.

"Get off!" she spat turning her head so that he couldn't touch her.

"You _hate _me do you? Really?" he ran a hand up her bare leg and she kicked him in the crotch. He fell off her, howling in pain and manic laughter at the same time.

"You are a fox, woman!" he threw at her, laying his head back on the concrete, "You never give in do you? That's what I love about you,"

She looked at him, her eyebrows raised. Did he even realise what he'd just said?

When her breathing returned to normal she looked at him laying next to her, he was staring up at the wooden boards above him.

"So, where do we go from here?" she asked dully, "We didn't even win any money,"

He turned his head to look at her. His white paint was streaked, showing patches of pale skin underneath, he still managed to look unnerving.

"It was never about the money," he said more seriously, "It was about chaos. It was about throwing a spanner in their little game. I like that,"

She ran her hands through her tangled hair, wishing she had a coat or a sweater, it was freezing out here.

"So, that older guy, Silvio?" she began tentatively, "You knew him once? He made it sound like he knew you,"

She watched his face change, licking his lips thoughtfully, like he was reliving a memory.

"My father worked for the Falcone family most of his life," he touched his scared face absently, "You could say they taught him everything he knew,"

"Did he do that to you?" Amelia asked directly, her eyes gazing at the puckered flesh showing under the clown makeup. She knew now was as good a time as any to ask the question.

In one fluid motion he sat up straight and was on his feet looking down at her. He held out his hands and she took them. He pulled her to her feet.

"It's a long story ballerina," he said pushing a strand of hair from her eyes and she shivered at the tender gesture, "But I'm not in the mood to tell it. Come on,"

He took her hand and led her back over the stones, out from under the boardwalk. It was getting dark as they tracked along the docks, the dim lights from cargo ships, blinking at them in the distance.

She noticed suddenly that he hadn't let go of her hand and the gentle side of his personality was just as unnerving as the chaotic side. As they walked they brushed shoulders, getting closer and closer till he wrapped his arm around her waist.

Confused, Amelia moved closer to him as they walked, somehow not wanting to let go even though she knew he was likely to push her away at any moment.

She thought of Bruce, kind and gentle, and felt awful at how she'd pushed him away from her, not wanting his affection and here she was craving it from a man with seemingly multiple personalities.

"Where are we going?" she asked quietly as they began to edge away from the docks towards rows of houses.

"Home," he answered. They stopped in front of a wooden slated two storey house, with blacked out windows and a wrap around porch.

The house looked like it had been empty for years, weeds curled around the gate, groaning as Jack forced it open. He disappeared around the back and she heard the sound of a pane of glass smashing.

"Come on," she heard him call and gingerly she pushed through the overgrown garden and round to where he was standing on a crate.

"Wait here, I'll force the back door open," he instructed and she nodded folding her arms across her chest, glad he wasn't going to make her climb through a window.

She didn't have to wait too long before he was kicking at the back door.

Amelia stepped into what once must have been a kitchen and a cold, draining feeling washed over her. This was a dead house and she felt a sense of dread creeping up her legs, making her stomach knot.

Something awful happened here, a long time ago.

Jack was looking the place over, his eyes, unreadable, but he kept licking his lips, which Amelia felt was more of a nervous trait.

"Jack," she whispered, "Was this your home?"

He folded his arms behind his back. "_Was_ is the right word,"

"What happened here?" she almost didn't want to know.

He grinned. "This is where I died,"

Amelia opened her mouth but nothing came out. When she didn't speak he glared at her, for some unknown reason his face angry.

"So, no counselling ballerina?" he shot at her, "You've been in therapy enough to know the right questions, so why don't you ask?"

Amelia folded her arms. "If I know anything about you Jack, I know that if you want to tell me what happened, you will,"

He stormed through a door that was hanging by its hinges and exasperated she followed. They were in a dark hall way. Pictures still hung on the faded wallpaper.

A woman had lived here once, she could tell and the thought made her almost want to weep. Could it have been a happy place?

Ghosts hung in the air around them and she didn't like the crawling sensation it gave her. It was like the house had been waiting for him to come home.

"I know your mother…killed herself," she swallowed, "Like mine,"

He whirled around and she gasped, his hands curling around her throat. She winced as he backed up to the wall, a picture falling to the ground and shattering. His grip tightened and he brought his face close to hers.

"Don't even _begin _to compare your life to mine," he whispered drawing out the knife that she had become familiar with. He traced it to her temple, but she kept her eyes on his bravely.

"I _wasn't,_" she said through gritted teeth, "I was just trying to understand,"

He laughed. "Oh, were you? How _sweet_,"

"Don't be like this," she said feeling faint, "You brought me here remember? I didn't ask for any of this. Can I help it if I want to know more about you?"

"You know everything worth knowing," he spat, his face too close and the knife edging closer to her jugular. Terror washed over her and she closed her eyes.

"I don't believe you," she whispered, "I don't believe anything you say anymore. You brought me here for a reason. You want me because we are the same,"

He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. "We are? How'd you figure that one?"

"We had very different lives…I'm not disputing that. But we both grew up with men that expected too much from us. We both grew up too fast. We were _never_ kids. And I've loved you since I was thirteen years old," the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, breathing hard, she closed her eyes not wanting to see her reflection in his black, glassy ones anymore.

The words hung in the air between them and every second that passed, she regretted her outburst even more.

She could feel his breathing deepen, his chest pressing closer to her, his lips grazing her jaw line. Instinctively she turned her head, her lips finding his. Helplessly pinned against the wall, she melted against him as he rained kisses over her face, her eyes, his hands tearing through her dark mane of hair.

Wrapping her arms around him, he hauled her to the stair way, pushing her backwards, his kisses becoming deeper, faster until she was unable to breathe. Wrestling each other out of their clothes, stumbling backwards, up the stairs, in a blind, lustful stupor, they left a trail of garments in their wake. Jack crashed her body against a wall, his hands everywhere, taking her face in his hands, plundering her mouth with his tongue.

She gasped, feeling his arousal against her, drunk with her own desire; she unhooked his belt and tugged him in the direction of a nearby bedroom. Collapsing on a mattress, totally absorbed in one another, years of tension finally were released, fuelled by desperation and a need greater than either imagined. Amelia bit down on the bare flesh of his shoulder as he entered her roughly, all thoughts of tenderness vanishing. Tears sprung to her eyes, not wanting the feeling of being with him to end, but she couldn't quell the horrible feeling that when this was all over he would leave.

Afterwards, they lay breathing hard and fast, too numb to move or detangle their limbs from one another. Amelia dug her nails into the palms of her hands, closing her eyes and waiting for his next move. She felt totally vulnerable, but so alive, her insides burning, her heart racing in her chest. She turned her head and looked at him, a little shocked at what she saw.

He was staring upwards, half his makeup gone and she realised she hadn't seen him without it since he'd been sixteen.

"Jack…" she whispered in the darkness. He got up off the bed and she covered her mouth with her hands.

God, it was her worst nightmare. He was going to leave after all. She heard his footsteps trudge down the stairs and she covered her eyes.

How could she have been so stupid?

Minutes later he returned and she shifted uncomfortably on the bed. But instead of him throwing the black dress at her like she expected, he slid his coat over her body. He lay down next to her and kissed her face, damp with tears.

"Amelia…why are you crying?" he said, his voice strange and quiet.

"I don't know…" she whispered, "I don't know,"

"Go to sleep," he hushed her, brushing the hair back off her face. He kissed her bare shoulder.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words would come. She was filled with emotion and had a million questions she wanted to ask. But for now she closed her eyes, exhaustion washing over her and for the first time in years, felt happily numb.


	13. Chapter 13

Hi all, thank you once again for the fantastic reviews and feedback I have been getting! I love hearing your thoughts, keep them coming. This is a shortie, sorry, but there will be more on the way, I promise! xx

**Hopelessly Devoted**

It had been two nights since Amelia had disappeared from Gotham Cemetery and the news was full of it. For two whole days Bruce had been subjected to constant harassment from the media, all of them competing to get his side of the story, as it was common knowledge that Amelia had been staying with him.

It had made his investigation difficult what with the press practically camped on the front lawn of Wayne Manor. He hadn't been able to come and go easily and Batman had coincidently vanished as well.

The loss of control and his helplessness made him feel all the more anxious. He hadn't slept properly, waking in the night, hot and sweaty, dreams of her death keeping him awake. Somehow he didn't really believe that the Joker wanted to harm her, but it was his other intentions that scared him.

He knew that Amelia had feelings for Jack Napier and he couldn't ignore the unwanted feelings of jealously, every time he remembered the way they looked at each other at his party that night.

As Batman he was an ideal, training himself to show no emotion, to be objective and uphold justice. His one rule, that he would never kill and would do what was right was a rule that was nagging at him.

The thought of Amelia and that freak taunted him. He could barely stand it.

On the morning of the third day Bruce was watching the gathering press from the safety of his bedroom window when Alfred appeared in the doorway.

The older man watched him silently for a moment before speaking, concerned at the strained, exhausted look across his face.

"Master Bruce," he said softly and Bruce looked up from the gathering crowd outside, "There has been an alert from Commissioner Gordon, it came in just now,"

Bruce pushed away from the window frame and rubbed his weary eyes.

"Hopefully good news," Bruce muttered as they made their way down to the cave.

Once seated in front of his console, Bruce tapped in the private number to Gordon's office.

"Hello?" the commissioner's voice at the other end sounded tight, "Is that you?"

"Yes," Bruce replied gruffly, "What do you have?"

There was a pause at the other end and Bruce could hear the sound of people mingling in the background.

"The woman is dying," Gordon said closely into the phone, "She doesn't have long. It seems that whilst on the run she managed to poison herself and there is nothing that the doctors can do for her,"

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "Nothing? But she is our only link to the Joker,"

Gordon was speaking to someone else in the background.

"Sorry…" he said clearly very distracted, "Its hell in here today. I suggest you get down to the hospital and try to talk to her one last time. You never know she might open up…I can arrange a private area for you to question her,"

"That's good," Bruce replied, "Do it. I'll be there in an hour,"

As promised Batman arrived at Gotham general in good time. Gordon met him at the ambulance station and escorted him up to a private wing of the hospital, where Harleen Quinzell had been moved to.

Bruce wasn't prepared for the sight of the woman lying on the hospital bed even though Gordon had forewarned him.

"Don't expect too much…and prepare yourself for a shock, she doesn't look good," the commissioner had told him outside the room.

The woman on the bed was thinner than he remembered, as though in only a few days weight had fallen from her bones, making her appear skeletal. The once fair skin was now tinged blue and pulled over the bones of her face making her teeth appear large. The eyes were black and hollow. Her hands pawed at the covers, and Bruce realised with a horrible sinking feeling that she was in the first stages of a prolonged death.

He leaned over her and she opened her eyes.

"Oh, its you again?" she hissed through slightly yellowed teeth.

"Are you in pain?" Batman asked, thinking how cruel it was that a human could suffer this way.

She laughed, it was hollow and brittle. "You care?"

"No one should suffer this way," he whispered.

"Love is suffering," she spat and then laughed again, the bones in her chest rattling.

Bruce shook his head, appalled that even after all of this, she could still be so hopelessly in love.

"No, this isn't love," he said, his voice raising an octave, "We do anything for the ones we love; we do stupid, rash things, make bad choices, that I can understand. But this, what's happening to you, isn't love,"

She looked at him hard, as though her black eyes would bore right through his mask.

"And what gives you the right to tell me how I feel?" she said through clenched teeth, "When will you get it? He never forced me to do any of those things! You all blame him, but it was me that did everything,"

"Because he influenced you!" Batman cried, annoyed at her stupidity.

"Haven't you ever wanted to make someone happy?" she said, her eyes suddenly filling with tears and he regretted his outburst.

"I didn't come here to talk about him," he continued, his voice tired, "I need your help. You have the chance to put things right. Tell me what you know about Siren West and that birth certificate,"

She looked unhappy at what he was asking. She clawed at the bed and winced in pain and Bruce looked away, the sight too much for him to bear.

"I was intrigued with him from the moment I met him," she said absently, "I wanted to know _everything_ there was to know. I managed to trace Harold Napier's tax forms back to way before the West kidnapping, it turned out that at one point, they had known each other….they worked together,"

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" he coaxed.

"At what point he decided to uproot to Gotham I don't know," she whispered hoarsely, "But then he's holding the entire West family for ransom and the rest you know, is history,"

Bruce shook his head. "But the baby… are you saying it was Napier's child? He got her pregnant in those three days and she decided to _keep_ it?"

Harely laughed. "Well she _didn't _keep it did she? She had it but as the certificate says, she gave it away. Too much of a strain on an already tense marriage,"

Bruce began to pace the room, aware that her dimming eyes were following him.

"So what happened to the child?" he thought aloud turning back to Harley, "Do you know where she is?"

Harley licked her lips, knowing she had said too much.

"Is that why the Joker took Amelia?" Batman leaned over her and she sunk further back into her pillow, "He took her so that they could find their…sister. God Amelia has a sister!"

Weakly Harley nodded, her eyes filling up again. "He'll be so angry with me for telling you,"

Bruce looked down at the pitiful sight on the bed under him and he pulled away from her, knowing that he frightened her.

He made his voice softer.

"He won't be angry with you, he won't know," he said.

She shook her head. "He always knows everything and I've betrayed him. He'll kill me,"

Bruce reached for her hand and she didn't flinch when he touched her. She looked up at him.

"Will you tell him something for me?" she asked and Bruce nodded.

"Tell him….I'm sorry for not being what he wanted," her voice cracked, "Tell him I really did love him,"

Bruce felt sick, his heart filling with sadness. "I think he knows,"

"I wish I could have been more like her," she said closing her eyes, "Then maybe he would have stayed,"

At this Bruce couldn't take anymore. He couldn't stand to be in the same room with this dying, deranged woman any longer. He stood quietly and tried to block out the sound of her tears as he left the room. Gordon met him outside in the corridor.

To Bruce's surprise he looked elated.

"We think we've found something," he said ushering Batman into another private room and closing the door behind them.

"One of my guys has been combing through that massive file Doctor Quinzell kept on the Joker and he found this," he pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to Bruce.

"It's a payslip," Bruce studied the writing, "For Harold Napier,"

"It says 'Dreamz Productions'," he read the slip over Bruce's shoulder, "It was a special effects company that used to supply props, lighting, well anything really to film studios. My guy checked out the date and ran it against films that Siren West was in at that time and we have a link!"

"Where was this company based?" Bruce asked the feeling of elation washing over him, the thought of finally getting somewhere lifting his spirits.

Gordon grinned. "Basin City,"

There was a commotion out in the corridor as a team of nurses dashed past the door. Bruce and Gordon stepped out into the hall way and watched them all disappearing into Harley's private room.

Bruce felt his hand crushing the slim piece of paper, his mouth going dry. After what seemed like an eternity, one of the nurses appeared from the room looking harassed and disturbed.

She jumped at the sight of seeing Batman standing in the corridor and gaped up at him.

"What happened in there?" Gordon asked, making her tear her eyes away from Bruce.

"Oh, I…sorry," she shook herself, "I'm sorry to have to tell you…she passed away just now,"

Gordon banged his fist against the wall.

"When we will be _rid_ of this clown?" he cried, "How does he have the power to turn a respectable doctor into a raving, obsessed lunatic?"

Bruce shook his head silently.

"Harleen Quinzell already was an obsessed lunatic," he replied, "The Joker just brought it out of her,"

"What will you do now?" Gordon asked.

"Go to Basin City," Batman said darkly, "And find Amelia West before he works his special magic on her as well,"


	14. Chapter 14

**Out from Under**

Amelia woke up and instantly realised she was on her own. Turning underneath the large overcoat that covered her body, her eyes searched the room.

"Jack?" she called out, propping herself up on her elbows. When no reply came she sat up.

"_Jack?_" she called out again, that hopeless feeling washing over her.

He was gone. She felt it in the pit of her stomach.

Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she swallowed her mouth dry like sawdust. She threw the coat around her shoulders and tip toed to the door, her feet cold on the floorboards.

Her clothes were strewn down the stairs from last night and she flushed at the memory, that sinking feeling returning.

God she was an idiot. She collected her dress from the banister and ashamedly retrieved her bra and pants from the stairs, muttering under her breath the whole time.

She pulled the dress over her head, wrinkling her nose at the smell of cigars that still clung to it.

Amelia looked around the ground floor of the empty house and realised that in day light it didn't look half as bad. The paint was still peeling and it had a funny, musty smell, but she could see that at one time a family had lived here, Jack's family and maybe once they had been happy.

She looked in all the rooms and saw that there was nothing here apart from the odd item of furniture.

Where was he? Humiliation welled up in her throat, but by now after all she'd been through she was too tired to cry. She should have known that this was all he had wanted her for. He loved the chase and having caught her finally, he'd lost interest.

Amelia spotted her shoes flung in a far corner and shoved her freezing feet into them.

She folded her arms across her chest and begged herself not to break down.

Don't be sad; be angry, she kept telling herself. For a moment last night, a fleeting second she'd been truly happy, maybe for the first time in years.

She could still feel his body next to hers as they slept, she could still hear him breathing, so at ease with one another.

Why had she given in so easily?

"Stupid, stupid!" she scolded herself, tears welling up, "What are you going to do now?"

"Ahh….this may sound strange coming from _me_ but I've heard talking to yourself is a clear sign of madness," came a voice behind her and she whirled around.

Her heart lifted momentarily but then anger flashed before her eyes.

He looked so smug. Marching towards him, she punched his arm, as hard as she could muster and was mildly amused with his reaction.

"What was that for?" he was affronted, "I brought you breakfast…and your clothes,"

He threw the bag at her and she caught it.

"Is that where you were?" she sniffed.

"Ahh, yeah," he raised an eyebrow, "I had to go and get the van so I thought I'd be a gentleman and bring you your stuff,"

She turned away and pretended to rifle through the bag, not wanting him to see the relief on her face.

He was behind her and sneaked his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him.

"Look at you, all mad at me!" he giggled in her ear, "Didn't you think I was coming back?"

"You can hardly blame me," she snapped wishing he would stop kissing the back of her neck, it was distracting, "You don't exactly have a great track record with women,"

He spun her around and she was met with the sight of his freshly painted on grin. He nipped her bottom lip playfully with his teeth and she scowled at him.

"Ahh, look at that face," he mocked her ruthlessly, "Just you keep pretending your not madly in love with me, you told me so last night remember?"

Amelia winced remembering her embarrassing admission.

He could see the embarrassment on her face and let her slip away from him.

She grabbed the bag and stalked back up the stairs to change.

Amelia found the bathroom and after washing around the tub with the hose she quickly showered and changed. She didn't feel wonderful and elated like a woman in love should feel. Instead she felt like she been beaten, her body bruised and sore. She realised in shock that it had been a long time since she'd been with anyone, a long, long time! No wonder she felt swollen, like her body didn't belong to her anymore. The memories of what they had done the night before flooded back, making her blush and groan in horror at the same time. Still she couldn't stop the stupid grin that it had put on her face but she was determined not to show him that.

When she marched down the stairs later, dressed back in her jeans and sweater she found him hunched over a TV set, banging the top of it. He was muttering curses under his breath and she suppressed a grin.

"Having problems?" she chided folding her arms. He turned and looked at her. She noticed that he had caked his face makeup back on, the greasepaint shining in the light from the window. Somehow it made her feel sad, that he still felt like he had to hide his face from her.

"This thing is as ancient as this house," he growled giving it one last hit. Amazingly it buzzed and crackled into action.

Amelia watched him rifle through the carrier bag and he pulled out a video tape.

She raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

He shoved it in the VCR and fiddled with the dials some more. Eventually the screen changed and she came and stood next to him.

"Jack…what is that?" she narrowed her eyes at the screen, "It looks like footage from a surveillance camera?"

He stood and clapped her on the back, harder than necessary.

"Bonus points ballerina, that is _exactly _what it is!" he laughed, "Our mutual friend, Harley, managed to procure this item before the building it was housed in mysteriously caught fire!"

Amelia raised an eyebrow at him. "You mean _she _set the fire?"

He pulled a face at her. "You catch on quick don't ya?"

Exasperated she turned her attention back to the screen. The camera had appeared to have been set up around the back of a building. From the footage she could make out a back door and some cars in the distance. It was hard to make the images out because it was in black and white and poor quality.

The back door opened and two people stepped out of it. They stopped directly in front of the camera, oblivious to its presence.

One of the couple was a woman and Amelia lurched forward, her heart freezing in her chest.

"Oh my god!" she whispered, "That…is my _mother_!"

The camera zoomed in at the man following behind her closely. He touched the woman's shoulder, pulled her back towards him and they were locked in an intimate embrace. Amelia's eye widened in horror.

Jack paused the video and approached the screen.

"And that…" he tapped the screen with his fingertips, "Is my father,"

Amelia's hands flew to her open mouth. "You're kidding right?"

"I kid you not, my sweet!"

"But…but…" she shook her head lost for words, "They knew each other…how…I don't understand any of this,"

"Urr, well they knew each other rather well," he laughed at her discomfort, "And I'd better stop the tape there cause it gets a bit…shall we say…_naughty_. No one wants to see their mother doing _those_ sorts of things…"

"Stop it!" she cried, her head spinning, "I don't believe you. Its just one of your games,"

Amelia sunk to the floor and looked up at him hopelessly. He knelt in front of her and caught her chin between his fingers.

"This is a game but it's not mine," he hissed at her, "You really think I was thrilled with that?"

She blinked at him. "Did you know about them? I mean when we first met…did you know?"

He shook his head. "I did not. And you can believe me or not, that's really up to you. But that whole deal, my father taking you hostage, was about much more than money it turns out,"

Amelia stared blankly back at the screen. The couple appeared deliriously lost in one another. She somehow knew that feeling.

The reality hit her and she swallowed. The whole thing had been a lie. Those three days she had been held captive by Napier and her mother had been responsible for it, she had unwittingly invited him into their lives. And her mother had paid the ultimate price. So had Napier.

"Was it revenge?" she spoke her thoughts aloud, "Say they did have an affair and she ended it….he became obsessed and wanted to punish her?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe my old man was the wild card that your mother was looking for. She was away from home, stuck in an unhappy marriage…"

Amelia bristled at that. "You don't know it was unhappy!"

Jack pulled a face and nodded at the television screen, but she ignored him, not wanting to see the image that would probably haunt her for the rest of her life.

The fact that her mother had brought Harold Napier into their home made her head reel. The whole incident had been a farce. That was why her mother had been so keen to keep her out of the way those three days. She shivered, the memory of her mother lying on the bed, her face torn and butchered coming back to her.

"I can't think straight," Amelia groaned rubbing her eyes, "So did Harley tell you all this?"

Jack nodded, raking his hands through his greasy locks.

"There is something else ballerina," he said turning to her and folding his arms behind his back.

Amelia stood up and brushed the dust off of her jeans from the floor boards. His face was as usual unreadable.

"What else can there be?" she sighed.

His mouth curled up in a grin. "Uhh, well, it seems that mommy's affair wasn't the only thing she kept hidden…"

Amelia felt a rock forming in her stomach; she shifted on her feet uncomfortably.

"Did she ever…uh, disappear for a long period of time that you can remember?"

Amelia covered her eyes. Her childhood, up until a year ago had been a montage of muddled up images, nothing had ever been clear. The period of time after the incident with Napier was even more so. Her father had put her through so much therapy as a teenager that the line between what was real and what was imagined, was very blurred.

"Jack, out with it!" she was dreading his response, "You know that I was mixed up after that time…I don't remember anything,"

Suddenly he was in front of her, placing his heavy hands on her shoulders. She opened her eyes and the need to lean against him was strong, instead she pulled away.

Why could nothing ever be simple?

"Look at me!" he demanded and reluctantly she opened her eyes, "This is important,"

He took a piece of card from his trouser pocket and pressed it into her hand. It was scrunched up from having been shoved in there for a long period of time but she unfolded it, her eyes widening at what she saw.

It was a black and white photo, taken whilst the person was obviously not aware. The girl in the picture was young, her blonde hair falling in a tangled mess about her face. Amelia felt her heart thundering once again, almost knowing what he was going to say next. The girl's face was strangely familiar, like she knew her.

"Who is this?" Amelia bit her lip and took a shaky breath.

"That ballerina," Jack leaned closer to her, his voice low, "Is our sister,"


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi again everyone. Your reviews have been amazing thank you so much. Firstly I really loved writing this chapter, hence why it's so long! Hope you all enjoy it and please let me know your thoughts. xx**

**This used to be a Funhouse**

It was almost midnight when Jack pulled the van up outside a club at the east side of town. Amelia rubbed her arms, her breath coming out like steam in the icy interior of the cab.

She glanced over at him and watched him through narrowed eyes as he pulled out a long, jagged knife and deftly slid it into the inside pocket of his coat.

"What's that for?" she asked, inching away and he threw her a manic grin.

"We don't want any trouble ballerina," he said.

"Then lets not go looking for it!" she replied, "What makes you so sure she even works in there?"

He threw her an exasperated stare. "I'm always sure,"

She shook her head and peered out of the fogged up window. The club was aptly named 'The Princess' and was supposedly one of the more up market strip clubs in Basin City, not that Amelia thought that any strip club could possibly be high class.

Jack was convinced that their 'little sister' worked here, serving drinks at the bar.

Jack kicked the van door open and slid out, motioning for Amelia to do the same.

She suddenly felt sick with fear.

"What if those guys from yesterday are here Jack?" she asked desperately and he threw an arm around her shoulder.

He threw back his head and let out a laugh. "What makes you think they would touch you? You're with me,"

His arrogance annoyed her. "They didn't seem bothered by that yesterday,"

He spun her toward him and to her shock he kissed her roughly, his mouth warm on hers. Amelia felt those familiar butterflies again and fought them down, but she didn't pull away either. That was the first time he'd touched her all day and it shocked her at how much she'd secretly craved his contact.

When he pulled away, he took his finger and rubbed off the line of red paint that he'd left on her lips, and then licked his fingers.

"Yesterday, they thought they were dealing with Jack Napier," he whispered, "Today they know they are dealing with The Joker and if they're smart they'll stay away,"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Sounds like a good plan. Maybe I should have done that!"

He pouted at her. "You love to toy with my emotions don't you ballerina? Now be a good girl for me tonight huh? Just be quiet, look pretty and stay behind me,"

Gallantly he held out his gloved hand and reluctantly Amelia took it, the feeling of being close to him strangely comforting.

He pulled her into his side as they approached the roped off entrance to the club.

The bouncer, a large man in his thirties turned and without looking up at them, stared down at his clipboard.

"Name?" he barked and Amelia thought how amusing it was that a run down, sleazy place like this actually had a guest list.

"Uhh…Joker," Jack said seriously, "And this is the Queen of diamonds,"

Amelia rolled her eyes and the bouncer glanced up, opening his mouth with what could only have been a cutting retort but it was stopped in its tracks. The bigger man swallowed and made a confused noise in his throat.

Being in Jack's company for a long period of time had made her complacent, Amelia realised. She had forgotten at how utterly terrifying Jack's appearance truly was, like an evil clown from a funhouse and that fear was written all over the bouncer's face.

Unbelievably he stuttered. "I don't have you on the list sir,"

Jack giggled. "Do I _look_ like I would be on your list?"

"Well…no…but…"

"Is it my shoes?" Jack said stepping closer to the confused man, "Come on…I'm wearing a suit aren't I?"

Jack reached into his pocket and Amelia gritted her teeth as he withdrew the jagged knife. She shoved past Jack and smiled up at the bouncer.

"Hi," she said in a low voice, "Look I know were not on that list but…my boyfriend…he's a little _edgy_ tonight, we were supposed to be meeting Mr Falcone here. Cant you just let us in?"

He drank in her pretty face, her long dark hair and winning smile, up until Jack cleared his throat behind her.

She gave him an imploring look. "Please?"

He shrugged. "Whatever just keep _him _on a leash!"

"Oh she already does," Jack snorted behind them.

"If you're here to meet Mr Falcone then that's fine…but I could loose my job if _he_ makes any trouble,"

Amelia nodded. "Of course. We wouldn't want that,"

She grabbed Jack's hand and pulled him away from the entrance into the smoky interior of the night club. Once inside he tapped her on the back and pulled her towards him.

"So I'm you're boyfriend now huh?" he teased, "Honey, you've made me so happy!"

Scowling she shoved him away, shrugging out of her coat.

"I just don't want to see anymore blood," she said, ignoring his approving look as she handed her coat into the cloak room.

She had been forced into wearing another unappealing outfit that he had carefully picked for her. This time it was a slashed back top, which revealed most of her stomach and a denim mini skirt. The black boots he had picked for her were a size too small, and she could feel them pinching her toes uncomfortably. She looked like and felt like a hooker, not of the pretty woman variety.

The Princess night club was about as sordid as Amelia could have envisioned. The interior was a massive shock of bright pink. Sofas shaped like huge pairs of lips were dotted around glass heart shaped tables. Black chandeliers hung from the low ceiling. The atmosphere was intense and the room practically breathed smoke, Amelia could barely hear above the low throbbing music. She spotted the stage and grimaced at the sight of a young woman parading around a pole, dressed in nothing but a pink sequin thong, which two minutes later had been shoved down some guys' shirt front.

Her eyes scanned the room and she glanced quickly at Jack who to her surprise wasn't even looking at the naked woman on stage. He caught her surprised stare and laughed at her.

"Don't look too shocked ballerina," he said leaning closer to her so that she could hear him, "My morals may be shot but I'm not a pervert, at least not an evil one,"

"Well that makes me feel so much better about our relationship," she shot at him.

"_Relationship_? _Boyfriend?_" he giggled and she went crimson.

Amelia ignored him and continued to look around the room. She spotted the bar over in the far left corner, teaming with men in business suits. It was then she saw the girl. Grabbing Jack's sleeve she nodded towards the bar and she watched as his eyes narrow in that direction.

It could have only been her. Amelia would have bet her life on it. The younger girl looked hot and harassed, running backwards and forwards behind the counter, a tight smile plastered to her face. Her blonde hair was curled from sweat, tied roughly up in a bun on the top of her head.

It was her eyes that convinced Amelia. They were so dark they were almost black, like his.

"That's her!" Amelia breathed, suddenly quite emotional at seeing her only living blood relative in the flesh, "That's my sister,"

"_Our_ sister," Jack corrected her folding his arms behind his back, "And how can you be so sure?"

Amelia laughed. "You're kidding right? Jack she looks like….well_, you_!"

Someone approached them from behind and Amelia stiffened when she heard the familiar voice.

"Well, Jack you've got some balls I'll give you that!" Silvio Falcone boomed from behind them, his hand sliding over Amelia's bottom and she flinched.

Jack grinned at him. "No hard feelings Sil huh? I'm a paying customer tonight…you're not going to hold our little card game against me. After all we left with nothing!"

Amelia bit her lip and prepared herself to run but to her surprise Silvio clicked his fingers at passing waitress She did a double take when she set her eyes on Jack.

"Get us a table at the back sweetheart, nice a private, Ok?" Sil said politely and the girl nodded, unable to tear her nervous eyes away from the grinning clown in the purple suit. Amelia found it hard to get used to the shocked stares they kept receiving and had to remind herself that it was Jack they were gaping at, not her.

When they were seated Amelia instinctively sneaked closer to Jack, her thigh pressing against his. She jolted, feeling his hand move across the bare skin of her leg, then moving to her hand under the table.

"So, what do we owe this pleasure?" Sil asked sliding into the seat across from them, "Business or pleasure?"

Jack laughed deviously and pointed a gloved finger towards the bar area.

"Pleasure is _always_ the first order of the day, Sil," he said, "And we had our eye on that fine looking little thing at the bar,"

Silvio stared at the pair of them open mouthed and then started to laugh. Amelia struggled not to feel uncomfortable.

"Oh it's like that with you two is it? I knew you had a deviant streak Jackie but your woman looks like high class,"

"Oh, it's always the quiet ones," Jack mirrored Silvio's smile, "What can I say? We are two of a kind,"

Silvio looked over his shoulder at the girl, obliviously working away serving drinks, occasionally stopping to push her hair out of her face.

"Her name is Sarah," he said, "She's been working here for a few months,"

The waitress came and placed a tray of drinks in front of them. Amelia sipped her vodka, her eyes darting to the girl at the bar.

"She doesn't look old enough to work here," she said the words aloud and caught Silvio's eyes.

He shrugged. "Sixteen and as sweet as they come. Take it from me she acts a lot older than she looks in the bedroom,"

Amelia felt Jack stiffen next to her and his grip tightened on her hand.

Jack licked his lips. "You've had that pleasure then?"

Silvio let out a wicked laugh and Amelia shuddered. "A girl has to do what a girl has to do. Isn't that right?" he winked at Amelia and she forced a smile at him.

Jack had been quiet then he finally broke his silence.

"We'd love to meet her,"

Silvio nodded eagerly. "Sure, we have a private room out the back for…exclusive clientele. Come on, I'll have her sent over,"

They all stood but Amelia suddenly didn't like the direction this was taking.

"Uhh…how about I talk to her first?" she interjected quickly and caught Jack's eyes, "I'd like to get to know her first before…you know. You guys go and catch up; we'll be across in a minute,"

Jack looked at her for a long time and nodded slowly. "Sure thing, we can talk about man things while you have some girl time,"

Relieved as they disappeared behind a glittery silver curtain, Amelia turned her attention to the bar. She found a seat, squeezing through a gap, ignoring the admiring leers she was receiving. Watching the girl was mesmerising and Amelia felt a wash of pride and warmth flood through her.

Everything about her, every detail of her young face felt so familiar from her wild yellow locks to her slightly pointed chin and nose. Her eyes were large and dark, unlike Amelia's blue ones. She smiled and joked easily with a customer on the other end of the bar and Amelia felt her insides tug. She looked so much like her mother, woven with her own image.

She was still growing and although she was small in stature, she looked strong. Amelia thought that in the right clothes, with her hair differently styled and with a few more years behind her, this child could be quite a stunner.

Finally the girl, Sarah looked her way and gave her a curt nod.

"What can I get you?" she asked in a clipped voice and Amelia realised that she had been so obviously gaping at her that she was lost for words.

The girl rolled her eyes.

"Sorry," Amelia stuttered, "I don't mean to hold you up…but its you I came to see,"

A sad look passed through the girl's eyes. "You're with Falcone? I saw him sitting with you,"

"Oh, yes, but we're not with him!" she said, "We were hoping to talk with you privately,"

The girl leaned against the bar, looking slightly agitated. "You don't talk like you're from around here,"

Amelia smiled. "I'm not,"

Someone called the girl's name from across the bar and she waved at them.

"Look honey," she said turning back to Amelia, "Normally I don't go for women but I don't expect I have a choice if you're with my boss. I finish my shift in ten minutes then I'll come meet you out back,"

Amelia went red in the face. "No you've got it wrong…I'm not trying to pick you up!"

The girl really laughed at that and her smile was so like Jack's it was uncanny.

"Its ok, don't be shy," she smiled but Amelia repeatedly shook her head.

"No you don't understand…we're not here for sex!" Amelia hissed and the girl leaned closer.

"By 'we' do you mean the guy in the Halloween costume you came in with?" she said. Amelia was shocked at exactly how much she had noticed, despite being so busy behind the bar.

The girl seemed to read Amelia's face.

"I notice everything, it's my job," she shrugged, "So that guy…he's the Joker right? I've heard of him, he your boyfriend or something?"

Amelia nodded. "Something," she admitted, "Look we don't have a lot of time. We came here to find you, not for sex, believe me. We're related,"

The girl had been pouring a drink for another customer whilst listening. She cocked her head to one side and gave her a long look.

"Related how?" she said, her smile vanishing, "I don't have any family. I never have,"

Amelia tapped her fingers nervously on the bar.

"Well you do now," she said, "We really should talk more privately,"

Relenting the girl thrust the drink into the customer's outstretched hand. She called over her shoulder to another young girl that was apparently coming off break.

She pulled the apron off over her head and shook out her blonde hair. Placing her palms on the bar, she heaved herself onto it and then swung her legs over the other side.

Amelia smiled at her as she landed next to her. The girl held out her hand.

"I'm Sarah," she said and Amelia took her hand, "Who are you?"

"I'm Amelia West," she replied wanting to hug the young thing to her, "And I'm your sister….its a long story,"

The girl's eyes widened. "And the clown?"

Amelia swallowed. "He's your brother," she said.

Sarah gave her a confused look. "So…you're my sister, he's my brother and you two are…together….isn't that a bit….gross?"

Amelia laughed. "It's not like that. Like I said long story, which I will explain,"

Sarah shrugged. "Lead the way,"

They pushed their way through the deepening crowd, towards that silver curtain that they'd disappeared through. Amelia's ears were throbbing with the heavy drone of the music. Before they went though the curtain she turned back to Sarah.

"You should know," she leaned towards Sarah's ear, "He looks terrifying, but he isn't here to hurt you. He takes a bit of getting used to,"

Sarah laughed at her. "Honey, this is _Basin City_! Most of the men in here take a bit of getting used to,"

Amelia smiled, uneasily. This girl was stronger than she looked that was for sure.

She pushed through the curtain and suddenly they were in a room that looked as though it had come straight out of an 'Arabian Nights' themed club. The walls were hung with scarlet drapes and black candles were dotted around the room, spilling out soft, hazy light. There was an elaborately dressed bed in the corner and Amelia hated to think how many women had been forced into horrible acts on it.

The men were seated around a large square table and abruptly ended their conversation when the two women entered the room. Jack was sitting at the head of the table and locked eyes with Amelia. He stood and addressed the other men.

"Gentlemen," he said in a low voice, "I think the time has come for some privacy if you would be _so_ kind?"

They all jeered and laughed, pushing past them. One of them gave Amelia a smack on the bottom and she jumped, behind her Sarah laughed.

"You really aren't from around here are you?" she jibbed and folded her arms.

When they were alone, Jack walked around the table toward them. He folded his arms.

"Hello cutie pie," he smiled at her and Amelia saw Sarah's face shift slightly. At least she had the decency to look a bit nervous.

"So," Sarah began and started to unbutton her shirt, "Shall we get this over with?"

Amelia was horrified. "Whoa! What are you doing?" she held out her hands and Sarah laughed at her discomfort.

"Uhh, I assumed that this was some sort of game…you know, brother and sister thing…"she explained completely straight faced, "You know I call him daddy…mommy…whatever…"

"Oh, my God!" Amelia gasped, "No it is not! I told you this wasn't about sex!"

Sarah blinked at them both and actually blushed, her finger quivering on her buttons.

"Its not?" she looked aghast, "You mean…you're my…"

Jack was laughing manically at the whole thing.

"Ballerina we are _never _going to get anywhere if nobody ever believes you!" he turned to Sarah who was staring at him open mouthed, "As for you, sis, shame on you! Does she look like someone who'd want to seduce an innocent little thing like you? Or do I for that matter?"

Sarah shrugged. "We get all sorts in this place,"

"Hey no kidding?" Jack laughed but Sarah looked like she was reeling. She collapsed in a nearby chair, her hands falling into her lap.

Amelia touched her shoulder and Sarah flinched.

"Sorry," she said, "It's just…this is huge,"

Amelia knelt down in front of her. "I know, I'm sorry," she held Sarah's hand, "I only found out myself recently,"

"You don't understand," Sarah whispered, her eyes filling with tears, "I have been on my own for so long…now I have a family,"

Amelia smiled and looked up at Jack who was staring at them as though he were an outsider.

"We have so much to talk about!" Amelia squeezed her hands.

Sarah's mouth lifted in a little smile and she hesitantly looked up at Jack warily.

"Its ok, I told you," Amelia assured her, "He won't hurt you,"

"Ballerina, your ruining my reputation," he chided and patted Sarah on the shoulder with a heavy hand, "Don't believe a word she says,"

The three of them looked at each other in stunned silence. It was a few seconds later when they realised something was wrong. The music had stopped and someone was screaming.

They all exchanged looks and Jack reached for the gun in his back pocket.

A shape burst though the silver curtain, the fabric ripping with ease.

"Oh…what timing!" Jack groaned as he aimed the gun at Batman's head.

"Jack _don't!_" Amelia cried grabbing his arm. The gun fired in the air and the Joker through her to the ground, giggling like a child.

"Don't get in my way, ballerina," he hissed at her and she stared up from her back at Bruce who was towering over her.

Sarah flung herself down next to Amelia as above their heads, blows were thrown. There was a horrible thud as Batman sent the Joker flying across the room, his body hitting the wall and sliding to the ground.

Bruce grabbed Amelia's arm and hauled her wordlessly to her feet.

"No wait!" she screamed, watching Sarah's face grow further away. He was dragging her out of the club, her boots scarping across the floor.

When they were out in the fresh air, she struggled away from him.

"What are you doing?" she flew at him angrily, "That was my sister and you just left her there!"

She had the pleasure of seeing Bruce's face change in confusion. She couldn't quite work out how she felt about seeing him; half of her was elated, the other half hating him for breaking into a private moment.

He turned and disappeared back inside the club. At this point people were running outside in a daze, stunned and frightened. Guns were going off inside and Amelia climbed to her feet struggling for breath.

She watched as some of the strippers, half naked and freezing huddled together on the sidewalk.

Amelia bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. Suddenly the sky was lit with flame. Every window in the club shattered with the sheer force of the blast. Flames licked at the inside of the building, curling skywards and engulfing it in a deadly embrace.

There was another huge explosion and Amelia screamed her heart in the throat. Her face was sticky with tears as she saw Bruce run through the flames.

Her heart sunk to her stomach with a thud. He was alone.

"What _happened_?" she screamed as he tried to stop her from running to the building, "_Where are they_?"

Bruce held her tight and she bit him hard. Undeterred he held her fast as she sobbed.

"It blew," Bruce cried breathlessly, "There was nothing I could do…someone must have blown the building in panic, I'm sorry!"

Amelia was struggling to breathe, her throat on fire from screaming.

"You killed them!" she screamed, tears running from her swollen eyes, "If you hadn't of come…."

Bruce, crestfallen, his face ashen under the mask, held the screaming woman to his chest.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry," he whispered as a fire truck pulled up at the scene.

Amelia wept in his arms until she was too weak to stand. She slid to the floor, grief and loss washing over her.

No more, she thought, please, no more.

Bruce knelt in front of her, his face inches from hers. "I'm sorry," he said.

She looked in his eyes, her own dead and empty.

"You killed Jack," she whispered, "You killed him….and you killed my sister,"

She passed out right there on the sidewalk and Bruce lifted her into his arms. As he carried her away, her words stung but he pushed them away. He could take her anger; he had done what he had to. He hadn't known that girl was her sister. He had never dreamed someone would blow up the building.

He carried her to the car, trying to ignore the screams still coming from the burning building, still feeling the heat on his skin.

He put her lifeless body in the car and then they disappeared into the night.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi everyone. Hope you're enjoying the story still and thank you for your kind reviews! I just wanted to point something out, as some of you have noticed on my profile that there is a sequel to this story that is still in progress. 'The Girl in Question' is finished, but I had to remove it from the site a couple of months ago as I found out that someone had stolen it and was posting it on another site. They were about half way through when I found out, so I deleted it to prevent them from taking anymore and thankfully it worked! I have been reposting this story gradually (there isnt much left to go now!) whilst still working on 'All Good Things' which is the third and final in the series. So thats why it looks like I have two on the go at once, theres just one, I'm not that multi talented. Anyway, a few of you were asking so thought I should fill you in. Thanks again and I love hearing your thoughts!**

**Getting to know you**

Jack's head was pounding. He opened his eyes and cleared his throat, the noise coming out unfamiliar and hoarse.

His face was pressed down into a green, scratchy carpet and his makeup stuck to it as he lifted his head.

Placing his palms on the floor he lifted himself up, unprepared for the reeling, spinning sensation and just as he was about to topple over, someone caught his arm.

"Hold on," Sarah's voice was in his ear, "I didn't think you'd ever wake up, you sleep like the dead!"

She hauled him over to the couch and he collapsed on it, rubbing his eyes.

"Ugh," he blinked the light in the apartment far too bright, "Where are we?"

"My place," she said, slightly awkward standing before him, "You got knocked out….then there was a fire,"

He said nothing, just continued to glare up at her and noticed her increasing embarrassment. It didn't often happen that he was the one who woke up after being unconscious, and especially in a young woman's apartment.

She was pale, he noticed, all traces of what little makeup she wore gone. She looked tired and when he glanced at her wall clock he saw the time.

"Its four am," he moaned, "Fine time to wake me up,"

She pulled a face at him. "That's gratitude for you!"

He laughed. "Oh…you want me to say _thank_ you? Wrong guy, petal,"

She shrugged. "I don't really care either way. But if it weren't for me you'd still be flat on your back in the princess, getting burnt alive,"

He scratched the back of his neck, the memory returning to him.

"Ahh, that Batman….what a guy," he snarled and Sarah folded her arms.

She hadn't actually bargained what she would do with him when he woke up.

This had been the craziest night of her entire life. First she had found out that after sixteen years of fending for herself, she had a sister and a brother, who happened to be a psychotic clown that was forever getting mentioned in the newspapers. Then the guy in the bat suit had interrupted and had practically pulled Amelia out of the building by her hair. The fire had been a shock even to her, but there was a lot of trouble in that place and it didn't surprise her that someone would panic and blow it to hell and back to get rid of any evidence.

She went to her kitchen sink and poured him a glass of water. He gulped it down greedily and then wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve, never once taking his black eyes off of her. He'd left a trail of red paint up his arm and she found herself staring at the old scars that tore across his bottom lip.

"Having a good look are we?" he said and she jumped, not realised that she'd been gawping.

"S-Sorry," she stuttered and then mentally shook herself. She had never been intimidated by a man in her life and wasn't about to start now.

"Nice little place you have here," he gazed around the apartment, a far off look on his face, "You live alone?"

"Yes," she answered, shoving her hands in her pockets, feeling ice run up her arms.

He looked about him suddenly. "Where's my coat?" he barked and she raised her eyebrows.

"It's over there," she replied huffily grabbing it off the chair and tossing it to him. She watched as he felt around in the pockets and pulled out a serrated knife.

Sarah's eyes bulged, her knees weak and he laughed openly at her reaction.

"I'm _not_ about to use this on you!" he sniggered running his finger along the hilt of the blade, "Just wanted to check it was still there,"

He stood up, towering over her and reached down and pinched her cheeks, hard.

"Look at that _little _baby face," he said with what she supposed was affection, "I see the Napier looks run in the family?"

Sarah pulled away, not used to being made to feel inferior.

"Not from your side," she retorted hotly and he merely gave her a strange smile.

"So where are we?" he gestured to the room and she stepped away from him, not liking the way he kept staring at her.

"About a mile from the docks," she said, "My friend helped me get you into his car and we drove here, you were out cold,"

She could tell he wasn't really listening, his eyes kept flitting distractedly about the room and she suddenly felt ashamed of her grotty existence. It was damp in here and the paper was pulling away from the walls, their depressing colours fading in the light. The whole place consisted of a bed, a television, a makeshift kitchen and a cupboard in which her toilet was hidden away.

His eyes fell to her dresser and the over stuffed jewellery box placed neatly on top of it.

"Well what's _this_?" he said, taking the few steps to the dresser, his hand immediately reaching for the box.

"That's private!" she scowled, throwing herself between him and the dresser, her face hot with embarrassment.

"You have a lot of pretty things in there!" his voice was amused.

She shrugged. "Its just costume jewellery," she snapped.

"Hmm…I've had the privilege of robbing quite a few rich ladies in my time and there is nothing fake about those gems….let me see…"

"No!" she cried holding up her hand and he stared down at her in surprise, "No, its private! Do you _understand _private?"

"I understand but I don't care," he laughed ruffling her hair like she was a ten year old; "You really have a temper don't you?"

Sarah rubbed her eyes, suddenly wishing that she'd left him to fend for himself. But then she knew that she wasn't that kind of person. It wasn't everyday that you found out you had a long lost brother and sister.

"Look…just back off..." her voice was defeated and didn't sound like it belonged to her.

To her surprise he raised his shoulders in a shrug and went to sit back on the couch.

"So how does a poor girl like you afford such….valuables?" he asked, determined not to let the subject drop.

Sarah sighed deeply. "I stole them. Happy now?"

He looked mock affronted. "Of course I'm not _happy _young lady. Stealing is just…wrong!"

He fell about in a fit of giggles and she couldn't help the corners of her mouth lifting up in a smile.

"I just like nice things," she said almost to herself.

"And there is nothing wrong with admitting it, either," he said suddenly serious, "At least you're being honest with me. And that's all I'll _ever_ want from you,"

She went to sit on the futon across from the couch, helplessly drawn to him. His personality was like a magnet, someone she wanted to sit and study for ages. His face, now she could see it, was not unlike hers. They had the same curled blonde hair, the same dark eyes.

"So," she began tentatively, "Tell me stuff,"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "What stuff?"

She smiled shyly. "Well about my life…I mean you've just shown up and I want to know everything about you both and…god this is so huge!"

He regarded her warily not really certain of where to start. How did you even begin to tell a teenager about her famous mother who had a sordid affair with a small time crook, who then became so wildly obsessed that he kidnapped her and her daughter which ended in a bloody face off, where his only son shot him dead?

"I think its best that Amelia tells you about that," he said finally and she looked disappointed.

"So, is like Amelia, rich or something?" she asked biting her bottom lip, "She talks like she is…you know, educated and stuff?"

Jack folded his hands in his lap.

"Yep, our little ballerina is a regular rich princess; you could even say Gotham royalty," he joked, "Quite a family you were born into kid,"

Sarah beamed. "So are we going to go and get her back from that bat guy?"

Jack smiled devilishly. "Well that _bat guy _is notoriously hard to find…but I'm sure we can find some way of luring him out, if we work together?"

"I want to get to know her, find out everything," Sarah said her face flushing with excitement.

"Hmm," he mused staring at her almost knowingly, "She has a lot of pretty things too,"

Sarah looked indigent. "That's not what I meant. I don't want to get to know her for her money!"

Jack cleared his throat. "Oh of course not!" he grinned, "How could I be so insensitive?"

There was an awkward silence between them and Sarah began bustling about her apartment, desperate to find anything to do rather and sit and look at him. Despite being a little nervous, she found she was warming to him. He was certainly a charmer and had a pair of eyes that you couldn't help but stare into.

She was standing at her kitchen counter and she jumped, not hearing him creep up beside her.

He leaned back against the work top and folded his arms across his chest.

"So, my little Sarah," he said, "How does a girl like you afford a place of her own?"

He had slipped back inside his large coat and she nervously hoped that his knife had slipped away as well.

She began putting away the dishes from breakfast this morning.

"How'd you think?" she said, sadness tinged her voice, "I've been working at the club for a few months…but I've known Falcone most of my life,"

Jack narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you sleep with men for money?"

Sarah's face flamed but she bit her tongue. "Really Jack, we just met,"

He laughed at that. "Do you?"

She began furiously wiping down the work top with a cloth. "From time to time,"

"That's sad,"

She threw the cloth in the sink, her agitation showing. "Isn't it just?" her voice was laced with sarcasm.

"And you steal…to get your fix of pretty things?" he probed further and she felt her ears getting warm in anger.

Her eyes met his. "There are women that come to the club sometimes. Rich, trailer trash cows that think they are so much better than us…than me. I don't take anything they would miss, believe me!"

He smirked at her. "Are you good?"

Sarah laughed out loud and began to clatter the dry dishes back into the cupboards. She squeezed past him to put a few glasses in the sink above his head. They locked eyes and she winked at him.

"Oh, I'm the best honey," she smiled and he awarded her with a genuine smile.

He folded his arms again. "Is that so?"

Determined to wipe the smug, self satisfied look off his face, Sarah reached into her jean pocket and carefully pulled out the knife he'd tucked away earlier. She waved it in front of his eyes and then handed it back to him.

Quickly he snatched it away, tucking it safely back into his coat pocket, the shock on his face, very real. Sarah was impressed with herself; no one ever suspected such an innocent little face. It had been so easy to reach inside his coat pocket whilst pretending to squeeze past him, it was the oldest trick in the book and he'd fallen for it.

Finally he looked up at her. "Impressive," he murmured, "Regular little dodger aren't we? You know normally if someone even _dares _to touch one of my knifes I'd be very, very mad, but seeing as you're family I'll let that one slide,"

"Then be more careful where you put it in future," Sarah bit back, "You were completely oblivious…I don't expect a guy like you lets his guard down often, but it happens,"

They stared at each other for a long time and Sarah wondered for a moment if she'd pushed things a little too far. His expression under that white and black paint was unreadable. Sarah had spent most of her youth reading people; it was how she had survived two brutal foster homes and then Falcone's nightmare of a club.

"Look," Sarah said at last, "I feel you're a man who appreciates honesty. I haven't had the best start in life and I think you know that. I would really like to find out about my family, or what I have left,"

He placed his hands on her shoulders, the sudden change in move catching her off guard.

"I think we are going to get along famously Sarah," he proclaimed, "But we need to trust each other. Do you trust me?"

Sarah shook her head. "Not one bit,"

They both laughed at that, easing the tension a little.

"Good, a fine way to begin our relationship," he joked, "Completely _without _trust. I like it. One thing though, if we are going to even set foot near your sister, we are going to have to get past the bat,"

"How'd we do that?" she asked, not liking the sound of where this was going.

"A diversion is what's required," he giggled, taking his hands and placing them on her cheeks and squeezing them, "Cute, _sweet _little thing!"

She wrestled away from him, blushing profusely. "Fine, whatever. Let's just get on with it!"

He looked at her with what she thought might be a real smile on his face but so far she hadn't been able to read this man, her brother, at all.

"A woman who knows what she wants," he marvelled straightening his green neck tie, "A rarity. I like you already,"


	17. Chapter 17

**Hello, thank you, **_**thank you**_** to everyone once again. I'm so overwhelmed at your great reviews. Special thanks to Buffy sparrow, angelika, red kiwi, lionhearted girl and to all those who have recently added me to their favs! This is a bit of a long one, hope you all like it. I'm heading for the end now but still a few chapters to go! xx**

**Broken**

Amelia sat uncomfortably across the table from Commissioner Gordon, the hard plastic chair making the small of her back ache. She had been stuck in the interrogation room with him for nearly two hours and he had been dancing around the same set of questions for the whole time. Amelia was convinced he believed she was lying out of fear of the Joker.

Her head ached and she was exhausted, not having slept properly the last three days.

The door opened and a small dark haired woman came in and placed a plastic mug of coffee in front of Amelia, giving her a tight smile as she did so. Gordon stared up at the other woman, tiredness and stress etched into every line of his face.

He turned back to Amelia.

"Miss West," he began, "Surely you know we are trying to help you?"

Amelia sighed deeply and took a sip of her machine made coffee.

"I've told you everything that happened Commissioner," she said, "I can't understand why you think I'm lying,"

Gordon raised his eyebrows. "I don't think you're lying Miss West, I just think you're protecting him out of some basic fear that he'll somehow come and find you again. Miss West, the Joker is dead, he can't hurt you anymore,"

Amelia shuddered and her hands tightened around the plastic cup, willing her heart to slow to a normal pace.

"I'm not afraid of him," she answered, "I never was,"

He didn't seem to be listening. "You were kidnapped, held against your will. The whole ordeal must have been terrifying,"

Amelia's thoughts trailed back over the last few days. She remembered the night in the old abandoned house, the way they had ran from Falcone's mob and she remembered Sarah. Amelia bit her lip hard, forcing the tears to stay back.

"I've told you," her voice was barely audible, "He never touched me, hurt me or threatened me, the whole time I was with him. I have known him since I was a child and I'm telling you the truth, I know him. We were there to find our sister,"

Gordon rifled through his paperwork and pulled out the birth certificate that Harleen Quinzell had procured in her investigation into the Joker's past.

"So, you're saying this young woman…Sarah? She was your sister? How do you know that she wasn't in on the whole thing with the Joker? That this wasn't some elaborate ploy to get money?"

Amelia closed her eyes, not wanting to see the disbelief in his.

"Because I just know," she whispered.

"What was this girl's sir name? Where did she live? It seems you know nothing about her and yet you believe without any evidence that she was your sister?"

Amelia took a deep breath, her frustration and agony building.

"I never will know will I? She's dead," the words came out in an angry blast and she saw the look cross his eyes. He pitied her.

"I think we've come to a stale mate here, Miss West," he said finally, "We'll call you if we have anymore questions,"

Amelia didn't wait to be told she could leave before she was on her feet. She bundled herself back into her coat and was out the door and into the main office of the police department.

She was relieved to see Alfred waiting there for her in the foyer and he wrapped a protective arm around her as they walked outside.

"Keep your head down, the press are out side," he whispered in her ear as they met the bleak snowy afternoon and about fifty reporters and camera crew waiting on the steps. Flashbulbs went off in her face as Alfred pushed through them to the black Mercedes waiting on the sidewalk.

When safely inside the warm car, Amelia let out a breath and turned to the older man beside her. The car pulled away and she relaxed back in the seat.

"That was like pulling teeth," she moaned and Alfred squeezed her hand, "He just didn't believe a word I said,"

"I think anyone would have a hard time believing that a mass murderer like the Joker just wanted to take you on a road trip to look up a long lost family member," he replied stiffly, "You may be able to forget what he's done Amelia, but some people cant,"

Amelia stared at him. "Not you as well Alfred! I haven't forgotten what he did and what he is capable of,"

They drove the rest of the way in silence; the city landscape soon disappearing as they reached the rugged country of Gotham's outer district, Wayne Manor was soon on the horizon.

Amelia felt the sense of pent up dread as they drove through the gates across the gravel driveway.

She wondered if Bruce was home. The whole place seemed engulfed in darkness as though it mirrored the owner's thunderous mood. For the past few days, Amelia had barely spoken to him, out of choice for she couldn't look in his eyes and see the guilt there, across his features like a mask.

He'd worked tirelessly though the nights, disappearing off at odd hours, desperately trying to find the Joker and Sarah, for he seemed convinced that they were alive.

Stepping inside the marble hallway, the house was eerily silent and she guessed that he was downstairs, where he spent most of his days, trudging through police reports, security cameras, trying to find some piece of evidence that they were both still alive.

Amelia felt bitter about what had happened, her heart wrenching at the state of things and what they had become.

It made her heart break if she thought on what Rachel would say if she were still alive. What once was a loving childhood friendship had become a twisted battle, and she realised that this was what Jack had done to them.

And still she couldn't hate him. She loved him. She also loved Bruce, but not in the way he wanted her too.

Her dream from weeks ago came back into her thoughts, telling her that she had to choose, and the choice would kill her.

Well now that choice was taken away from her, Jack was dead and so was her only other living family member.

"How did it go?" came a voice from behind her as she slipped out of her coat.

Bruce was on the stair case, his face half hidden in the shadows, but she could stills see the bags under his eyes. She wanted to hate him for what he'd done, but the rational part of her knew that he was only doing what he thought was right at the time.

She shrugged, non committal, her arms wrapping around her.

"It was awful," she said, "He wouldn't believe me, thought I was deluded. It seems no one can believe that the Joker has anything other than evil intentions,"

Bruce made a sound that sounded like a deep sigh; he took another few steps down towards her.

"His crimes make that difficult Amelia, surely you understand that?" he said softly and she gave a defeated nod.

"You've had the chance to be rid of him a hundred times Bruce, you're stronger than he is. You could have killed him and you haven't. I think some part of you believes that he can be rehabilitated?"

This was the most they'd spoken in days. Amelia waited for him to reply but he didn't.

The Joker had taken so much from him, so much more than she would ever know. Harvey Dent had been Bruce's future. He had been his chance to escape what he had become, the batman. But the Joker took him, turned him against them all, proving that even the best of men could fall. Then he'd taken Rachel, his first and only real love.

Now Amelia was slipping away from him, a girl he'd known his whole life, a girl he shared so much with and had grown to love and what killed him was that she was so willing to leave.

Bruce's face, no longer in the shadows, stared down at her. She bit her bottom lip and fought back the tears.

"I wish we could turn the clock back," she said her voice struggling, "I wish we could just go back and be kids again, playing in your garden with Rachel. I miss her so much,"

"I do, too," Bruce replied, now standing a few inches away from her. She was so cold, she realised, so cold and exhausted.

"Sarah reminded me of her a little and now I'll never get to know her," Amelia broke and Bruce let her fall into his arms. She cried on his shirt, making it damp.

Bruce wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry,"

Amelia looked up at him.

"No!" she said, her eyes wide, "I wont accept another apology from you Bruce. All of this is not your fault…it just happened. I know what I said that night, but, I didn't mean it,"

His hands were warm on her back and feeling slightly uncomfortable all of a sudden she pulled out of his embrace. She smiled up at him sadly.

"You look terrible," she said and he gave a small laugh.

"That's what worrying about you has done to me," he said his eyes far away, "Do you think there will ever be a time when you and I can just sit around and watch old movies together, like we did when we were kids?"

His words made a wave of angst wash over her. "Not as long as Gotham needs Batman," she said.

His brow knitted together in a frown. "As long as the Joker is around, Batman will always be needed,"

Amelia pulled away coldly. "He's dead Bruce,"

"I don't believe that…I don't know why but somehow, he's alive,"

Amelia shook her head. It had been going so well there for a minute, at least they had been talking.

"I watched that building explode, I don't know who could have survived that. We have to accept that it's over_. I_ have to accept that it's over. You can't let him become an obsession Bruce,"

Amelia couldn't bear to look at him any longer. That grim, tight expression on his face, the hollow, emptiness in his eyes. It was like he couldn't let it go.

Amelia had known Bruce after his parents had been killed and she always knew he was ambitious and driven, but she never suspected that he was so obsessive, literally filled with the need to avenge. Now this had only added to his drive, forcing him to aimlessly roam each night, so determined to find the Joker that Amelia worried it would kill him.

She was up the stairs and back in the safety of her own room, where she let out an agonising sob. Falling onto her bed she cried until she was too weak to even move, hating herself so much for the way she felt.

She could end Bruce's turmoil; all she had to do was love him. But she couldn't do it. Every rational part of her loved Jack and it left her feeling wretched and confused. Her throat was raw from tears, knowing that she would never see him again. Her heart felt literally broken in two pieces.

She fell into a restless, dreamless sleep and awoke an hour later, her body freezing cold from where her body temperature had plummeted.

She sat up and blinked, hearing footsteps in the hall coming hastily towards her room. The door flung open and she gasped as both Alfred and Bruce burst through the door.

"Quick, turn on the television!" Bruce dived for the remote control at the foot of the bed.

"What's going on?" Amelia's heart leapt into her throat.

The television buzzed into live and Alfred came around to her side of the bed, leaning on it.

"It's the Joker Miss," he said in a hushed voice, "He's alive,"

Amelia struggled to control her facial features but every part of her wanted to yell in happiness.

Once again, much the same as Harley had done the newsreader behind the desk warned of disturbing images and all of their eyes widened.

There was a girl tied to a chair surrounded by huge drums of fuel, she looked numb and petrified, her blonde hair falling in a mass of curls around her face. Amelia leapt off the bed. "Sarah!" she cried in elation, "Its Sarah, she's ok!"

The room where she was being held struck Amelia as familiar; she narrowed her eyes, taking in the glass wall behind Sarah, a view over looking the city.

"That's my father's apartment!" she breathed and Bruce stared at her.

"Are you sure?" he asked hurriedly and she nodded her eyes darting back to the screen.

A gloved hand waved in front of the camera and then Jack's ragged face appeared before the screen. Amelia's hand went to her mouth, covering the fact that she was half dazed, half horrified; Bruce's eyes were on her the whole time.

"Uhh….hello every body. You all remember me don't you?" The Joker leered into the camera, "It may have caught your notice that I'm a bit tense. I need to find someone and the Batman is keeping me away from her…"

He pulled out a serrated knife and showed it lovingly to the camera as though he were displaying a prize. Then he went to stand behind Sarah and placed the knife to her throat, causing her to struggle and whimper behind her gag.

"Now…if I don't have Batman here in one hour….this little girl is doggie food. Don't be shy Bats, now's not a time to be coy. Remember what happened to Rachel?"

The screen went black and all three of them let out a breath.

Bruce was on his feet. "I have to go,"

Amelia stood and blocked his path. "Bruce, this is a ploy. He isn't going to kill Sarah!"

Bruce stared down at her, his brow furrowed. She took his arm, willing him to listen to her.

"Bruce, he won't hurt her! This is some sort of plan to lure you out and you're going to fall right into it," she insisted but he pushed past her, intent on leaving.

"Alfred," he addressed the older man, "Keep her safe while I'm gone!"

"No!" she flew past him and blocked the door, "Why won't you _listen _to me?"

Bruce looked at her sadly. "Because when it comes to him, Amelia, you're blind,"

Amelia watched his form disappear out into the corridor and she turned to Alfred, her face hot and angry.

"You should have stopped him!" she cried, "Why didn't you?"

Alfred couldn't meet her eyes as he walked past her, her blue eyes livid and accusing.

"Because I trust him Miss," he said tightly, "Isn't it time you did the same?"

Amelia watched him wander off down the corridor and felt desperation over come her. It felt as though she was trapped in a mad house and she was the only one who knew the way out.

Sitting back on her bed she crossed her arms and waited for the inevitable to happen.

Bruce thundered along in the car, his thoughts never leaving his goal.

He pulled up at the lane known as Millionaires Row and flew out of the car, ignoring the cries and stares from passers by.

He broke into Amelia's father's building and ran the steps to the apartment, breaking the door down with an almighty crash, the echo thundering around the empty apartment.

The furniture was covered in large white dust sheets, making it appear ghostly, the silence making his skin prickle.

He found the hidden set of stairs to the ballroom and ran up them, the glass like floor stretching out before him.

To his horror and an awful sinking feeling that overcame him, the room was empty, there was no girl tied to a chair, no oil tanks.

Turning about he wondered if Amelia about the apartment had been wrong but he suddenly got his answer.

There was a man standing behind him, wearing a clown mask. He was carrying a huge wooden base ball bat, thumping it into his right hand over and over.

Bruce clocked another man on the stairs again wearing a mask, but this one was carrying a chain saw. He swallowed as more men followed, creeping up the stairs, carrying various weapons, clubs, bats, knifes, one even had a large fire iron.

His own naivety hit him and he prepared himself to fight, suddenly circled by ten men.

This was going to hurt.

Amelia was worried that there was no noise from downstairs. Usually by this time of day she could hear Alfred bustling about in the kitchen, the smells of the dinner he was making wafting up the stairs to greet her.

But instead the house felt cold, like a light had gone out. She had spent the last hour manically pacing her bedroom, wearing a hole in the carpet.

She felt a sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach every time she thought of Bruce and what he could be walking into.

Why wouldn't he listen to her?

Finally she couldn't take the silence any longer and marched along the corridor to the great stair case at the end of the hall. That was when the feeling hit her.

"Alfred?" she called along the empty passage way, preying soon he would reply and her fears would be over.

She leaned over the banister and what she saw made her gag.

Alfred was lying at the foot of the stairs, a pool of scarlet blood forming around his head.

Amelia sobbed running down the flight of steps and collapsing at the side of his lifeless body. She turned him over and his old face was ashen, his eyes closed.

"Alfred…oh my god!" she cried shaking his body.

"Don't fret ballerina…he'll live to cook another pot roast don't you worry," the voice came from above her and she glanced up to see Jack standing over her, a base ball bat in his gloved hands.

His face paint was cracked and worn revealing pale patches of skin; he seemed distracted and twitchy, his eyes darting nervously around the marble hallway.

"Jack…you hit him!" she cried, "He's an old man!"

Jack threw back his head and laughed, making her shiver.

"That old man isn't as helpless as he looks," he pulled back his coat and revealed a darkening blood stain that was spreading dangerously across his midsection, "Got me with a kitchen knife, the old coot….he only got what he deserved!"

Amelia looked down at Alfred and shrugged out of her woollen cardigan, folding it under his head.

"You have really surpassed yourself this time Jack!" she said angrily, "Where is Sarah?"

The Joker licked his lips nervously. "What…no kiss? No hug?" he laughed and she stood.

"Where is my _sister_?" she yelled in his face.

"I'm here, Amelia…it's alright," came a small voice from behind them and Amelia whirled about.

Sarah looked relieved and exhausted at the same time, her hair was dishevelled and her face dirty. She ran into Amelia's arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered in her ear, "I didn't know these people were your friends…he said we had to rescue you,"

Amelia smiled at her and brushed Sarah's hair out of her eyes.

"Its Ok, you didn't know," she looked back at Jack who had collapsed on the stone stair case, "I'm sure he said a lot of things,"

Amelia let Sarah go, realising she was holding her too firmly and ran to Jack's side. His breathing was shallow and he seemed disorientated as he let his head fall back on the steps, a giggle escaping his red lips.

Sarah knelt beside her. "He stabbed him…looks like he really got him!"

Amelia put her hand on the wound and gasped as fresh, wet blood seeped onto her skin. Jack looked up at her and grinned.

"Feel like a game of doctors and nurses?" he giggled and then made a sound of pain.

"We have to get you…_and _Alfred to a hospital," she said and glanced back at Sarah, "There's a phone in the kitchen, go and call an ambulance,"

Amelia heard Sarah's feet slap across the marble floor as she ran to the kitchen. Jack was looking at her though glassy eyes and she realised that this was the closest she'd ever come to seeing him look humble. His mouth was pressed into a thin line.

She took his hand but he snatched it away.

"You'll be ok," she said, her voice trembling him. Her emotions were in tatters. She'd been convinced that she'd lost him, then after seeing the news report she had been thrown into chaos. He was alive. But now he was literally dying before her eyes.

"Jack," she whispered, "Where is Bruce? What did you do to him?"

The Joker's face lifted in a devilish grin. "He's at a private party,"

"_Please_," Amelia begged, her eyes filling up, "You have to tell me where he is,"

Sarah watched them from the door to the kitchen, a lump forming in her throat.

"They're on their way," she called, walking numbly back to the hallway.

"No, no" Amelia cried suddenly, "Jack…_wake up_!"

She slapped his face, but his eyes fluttered closed, his head falling back and Amelia sobbed.

Sarah ran to her side and tried to shake him awake. The two women looked at each other, each in their own despair. They wrapped each other tightly in an embrace and waited in silence.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi all, thanks again for all those who have taken the time to review and add me to their favs. Special thanks to red kiwi, purgatory nymphe, buffy sparrow, lionhearted girl, kairai and ber1719. You guys are great and I love reading my comments. I said in another chapter that we are heading for the end, and think this will be soon, only a couple of chaps to go. I hope to update once before xmas, but we'll see if that happens. Have a great Xmas everyone and happy New Year!**

**Ps I do not own any DC comic character, just Amelia and Sarah. xx**

**A Smile like Yours**

A nurse hurried past the two young women in the corridor, her footsteps light and quick over the polished floor. Amelia lifted her head sleepily and Sarah stirred her head on the older woman's lap, spread out across the uncomfortable chairs.

"Wait…nurse!" Amelia called after, her voice slightly croaky, "Is there any news?"

The nurse, a small, red head girl walked back towards them. She shook her head gravely.

"I'm afraid not Miss West," she answered, "Mr Pennyworth's condition is still classed as critical, he had quite a blow to the head. We'll know more once the swelling has gone down,"

Amelia squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh, Alfred…" she muttered then looked back up at the nurse, "And…the Joker?"

The young girl swallowed, puzzled as to why someone as well known as Amelia West would even care what happened to a wanted criminal.

She pushed back a strand of red hair. "He suffered a severe stab wound to the left side of his body, which unfortunately damaged his pancreas; the doctors are planning to get him into surgery as soon as they can to repair it,"

Sarah sat up and rubbed her eyes. "So he'll be Ok?"

Amelia let out as sigh as the nurse nodded her head. They looked at each other and hugged one another tightly, Amelia letting out a few emotional tears.

"When can we see him?" she asked as the nurse was about to walk away.

"Well, he's still unconscious but I'll let you know as soon as he's awake,"

"Thank you," Amelia smiled at her and then hugged Sarah to her tightly.

"I'm so glad you're here," she whispered, "I knew he wouldn't hurt you, I tried to tell Bruce…but he wouldn't listen,"

Amelia looked away, that horrible sinking feeling coming to her again. They had been sat in this hospital for four hours and there had been no sign of Bruce.

Realising that Sarah was staring at her, she plastered on her best false smile and squeezed the girl's hand.

"I guess you and I have a lot of catching up to do," she said and Sarah beamed, stretching out her arms sleepily, "Did Jack tell you anything about me?"

She shook her head. "He said that it would all be better coming from you…which was like dangling a huge carrot in front of my eyes!"

Amelia laughed, loving the younger girl's smile.

"He was probably right," she agreed, "It's a long story,"

Sarah sat up like a little child waiting for a bedtime story. "I've got time!"

Amelia looked at her for a long time, seeing an almost opposite image of herself only a few years ago. Amelia had been a fairly carefree teenager, brought up in wealth and luxury, only having a job because she ought to. Her head had been in the clouds most of the time. How could she possibly relate to this hard, tough little woman who had seen more horror in sixteen short years than she had ever imagined?

"Start with my mom," Sarah urged impatiently, "_Our_ Mom,"

Amelia took a breath. "Well…her name was Siren West, but that was just her stage name, her real name was Sarah, like yours, Sarah Giles,"

Sarah's eyes widened. "Like me?"

"Hmm," Amelia nodded, "She was a movie star. A beautiful, talented movie star and she had the world at her feet, she met my father when she was twenty one and they moved here, to Gotham and they had me,"

Sarah's face was filled with wonder, her eyes shining a little with emotion.

"We lived in a fantastic apartment, high above Gotham and in every sense were the perfect family. My dad, was rich, very, very rich and she was beautiful, it was the perfect arrangement,"

Sarah narrowed here eyes. "It sounds almost too good to be true,"

Amelia nodded sadly. "They almost always are. I was the typical spoilt little princess…don't get me wrong, I had everything I ever wanted but my parents were never happy…their marriage was more like an agreement. They would hold parties, fundraisers, she was the beauty on his arm always making him look good and she was forever kept in Chanel. Then one day, a man came into our lives who destroyed everything…"

Sarah's eyes darkened and she swallowed. "My Father…?"

"Yes," Amelia replied, "He was a sick man, driven by revenge. He held my mother and me hostage for three days in our apartment and my father refused to pay the ransom. That was where I met your brother, he protected me, watched over me…he didn't look the way he does now,"

"How did it end?"

Amelia closed her eyes, horrible, sick images of her past appearing before her eyes.

"Jack and I disappeared upstairs to the ballroom we had above the apartment, I was showing him…flirting with him," she smiled bitterly, "Napier thought my mother had let us go and he….hurt her, badly. He cut her face, like how Jack's is now,"

Sarah's hands flew to cover her mouth. "That's awful….it must of destroyed her!"

Amelia swallowed the lump in her throat.

"She never got over it. She had dozens of operations over the years but it never changed anything, she hated herself and her refection. She was forever in therapy and so I was I for that matter. I blocked out most of what happened to us, I forgot all about your brother…until a year ago and he found me and 'woke' me up,"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I bet you wish he hadn't!"

Amelia shook her head. "No, despite everything, it was a good thing. I'd been living a lie my whole life. Don't think too badly of your father either…I found out very recently that he knew my mother before all this even happened. They were having an affair,"

Sarah's jaw dropped. "That is quite a story!"

Amelia licked her dry lips, knowing she hadn't even gotten to the worst part yet.

"The night Napier attacked our Mother…Jack shot him, he died a long time ago,"

Sarah looked like she was reeling with all this new information.

"And what happened to our Mother?"

Amelia let her head fall back against the wall.

"She killed herself, over a year ago. I guess she just couldn't take it any longer. That reflection staring back at her…I know now that it was a daily reminder of what she did. Of what she allowed to happen to us,"

Sarah reached out and took Amelia's cold hand in hers.

"You've had so much sadness….and to think I was just a few miles away, all that time, all those lost years!" her voice cracked with emotion and Amelia hugged her tightly.

"Thank god for you, Sarah!" she whispered into her hair, "Do you know how much I've always wanted a little sister? You are going to be thoroughly spoilt…that is if you want to be!"

Sarah's eyes brightened and she laughed playfully.

"Well I thought I might like to go live with the clown with a knife fetish for a while if that's ok?" she grinned, "He seems fun,"

Amelia laughed, wiping her eyes.

"You look like him when you smile," she said sadly.

Sarah leaned closer to her. "You love him don't you?"

Amelia nodded gravely. "Dumb huh?"

Sarah shook her head, smiling at the revealed secret. "I think he loves you too,"

They remained silent for a while, and then Sarah shifted uncomfortably next to her, causing Amelia to turn and look at her.

Sarah pushed her blonde hair off her face, looking a little nervous.

"Look, I have to be honest with you…" she began hesitantly and Amelia nodded with encouragement, "I'm not perfect…I've done stuff…well you must have figured that from the way I behaved at the club…but I want you to know that. Maybe I'm a bit like him, you know?"

Amelia sighed deeply. "When I first met Jack he was sixteen too and had lived a tough life…but he was not the way he is now. I don't know what happened to him in those years after, but it made him the way he is….and you are not like him. Inside I believe he is good, he just needs help. You're a _good _person too Sarah,"

"What if I'm not though? What if I end up like that…I _don't_ want to!"

"I won't let you," Amelia insisted, "You just need help too, like him….that and lots of Prada,"

Another hour dragged by without a word and the whole time Amelia noticed Sarah becoming more and more uncomfortable, almost jumping out of her chair every time a nurse bustled through the corridor. Amelia pushed it to the back of her mind, knowing that she was probably just concerned about Jack. Her thoughts repeatedly turned to Bruce, preying that somewhere out there he was Ok.

It was nearly one am when Amelia was woken by the red haired nurse, gently tapping her shoulder.

"Miss West," she whispered, "The Joker is awake…"

Amelia shook Sarah who had dozed off next to her and they both hurried down the corridor.

The nurse showed them into a private room that had three armed guards posted outside the door. That hadn't stopped Harley, Amelia dimly remembered.

Jack was on the bed, his greasy curls splayed out over the pillow. The nurses had obviously scrubbed off what was left of his face makeup, leaving a red stain across his scared lips and black rings around his eyes. He was wearing a white hospital robe and the covers were pulled up to cover his chest.

He shifted on the bed when he heard them come in, his eyes opening slowly.

Amelia stood over him and took his hand in hers, her heart breaking. He had never looked more like he used to when he was a kid than he did now.

He was still so young, she marvelled. How did someone that young get to be so twisted? Amelia realised that she would probably never know.

Sarah was standing shyly in the doorway as the red haired nurse pushed past her.

"He needs to go to surgery in ten minutes so be quick," she said curtly, her eyes straying over Jack and Amelia's entwined fingers.

Amelia looked back down at him. "Jack…can you hear me?"

"Sure can ballerina," he snorted, grinning a little, "Last time I checked my hearing was A OK,"

Amelia pulled a face at him and he opened his eyes to stare up at her.

"Are you in pain?"

"It tickles, a little,"

"Oh, be serious will you?" she sighed, "We've been sitting out there for hours the least you could is give a sensible answer,"

Jack's eyes widened at the sound of the word 'we've', he craned his neck to look at the end of the bed and saw Sarah standing there, a blank expression on his face.

Amelia forced him to look at her, by taking his face in her hands.

"Jack…I need to know where Bruce is…he went off to my father's apartment after your news report…"

"Oh dear," Jack licked his lips, "No, no, that was a trap set for a _bat,_ not a millionaire…gee I hope my boys weren't too hard on him?"

He burst into a fit of giggles and Amelia looked back at Sarah, who was red in the face suddenly, her eyes full of something that she couldn't make out.

Amelia grabbed Jack's shoulders, still trembling from laughter and shook him.

"Jack…if you feel anything for me…you must tell me where he is. You've already hurt Alfred…"

Jack grabbed her wrists, frighteningly hard and pulled her down over the bed so that their faces were inches apart.

"Honey, why can't you see that I'm just trying to get my family back together?" he whispered his voice low enough so that only she could hear him.

"We can never be a family until you get help Jack," her eyes filled up, "I want to help you!"

"Oh, by the way, our little sister…" he pulled Amelia even closer so that his mouth touched her ear, "She's a real chip off the old block…

"What are you talking about?" she hissed at him. He laughed quietly into her ear.

"I didn't hit your precious old man over the head…._she _did!"

Amelia wrestled out of his grasp and whirled about meeting her sister's eyes in horror. Sarah's eyes were wide like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, a red flush spreading across her face.

Then Amelia saw what Sarah was holding in her hand and her legs went weak.

The kitchen knife, still stained with dry blood glinted under the overhead light. Sarah was shaking.

"I'm sorry," she wailed, clutching the knife tightly, "He said I had to bring it in case this would happen…I didn't mean to hit that guy….I didn't know what to do..."

Amelia calmly held up her hands.

"It's alright," she smiled shakily, "Just give it to me and I'll get rid of it,"

Jack bolted upright in the bed and wrapped his hands around Amelia's throat, pulling her back against him. Amelia gagged and her eyes flew wide open.

"No, sweetie!" he purred, "Give it to _me!_"

He squeezed Amelia's throat tighter and Sarah cried out.

"Stop!" she yelled frantically.

"Ahh, honey you look _conflicted_," he laughed, "Been having a cosy girly chat while I was out cold? Bonding nicely were you? If you don't give me that knife, I'll _break_ her neck with my bare hands…got it?"

Sarah shook her head, her tears useless. "I don't believe you would do that to her!"

He laughed hysterically.

"Would you like me to list what I've done to her so far…lets see there's kidnapping, I injected her in the back with this needle thing one time…oh, yeah I have punched her at least _twice _and not to mention _stabbing_ her in the chest last year….would you like to try me now?"

Trembling Sarah handed the knife over, her eyes pleading with Amelia, not to hate her.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered as Jack wrapped his fingers around the hilt. He released Amelia and she fell forward, choking for breath. She stared back at him, wild eyed and furious.

"Great!" she yelled, "What are you planning to do now?"

He pulled back the covers and hopped out of bed, a little unsteady on his feet.

"Get us out of here, of course!" he said, fumbling in a box in the corner. He pulled out his stained blue shirt and striped off the gown hurriedly, and replaced it with his own filthy attire.

"Jack you can't leave here, you due in surgery any minute…you need an operation!" she yelled, exasperated.

He pulled on his purple trousers and then threw his over coat over his shoulders.

"Do you think I'm _stupid _enough to put my body in their hands ballerina? People who would want to _see _me dead?"

"Don't be absurd!" she flung her arms in the air, "How do you plan to get out? There are three armed cops out there?"

He crossed the gap between them, flung his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to kiss her mouth hard.

He winked at her suggestively and then motioned for Sarah to take his hand.

"I keep telling you ballerina, but you don't believe me," he said kicking the door open with his foot, "I can do magic!"


	19. Chapter 19

**Well here it is folks. The second from last chapter!! Thank you all once again who have been so kind in their reviews. Hope your all still enjoying this. xx**

**Goodbye to you**

"Stop, you're _hurting_ me!" Amelia cried out as Jack forcibly dragged her down the stone stairwell, her heels scraping on the ground. He had her wrist in a painfully tight grip and in the other hand; the razor sharp knife was digging into her waist.

Behind them Sarah followed on leaden feet, unable to believe that they'd so easily managed to get past the three armed officers that had been stationed outside his room.

She remembered the look of horror and defeat on their faces, as the three of them had emerged, she with a gun held up high and Jack holding Amelia in a death grip, a knife pointed at her throat.

They couldn't do anything, having seen this sort of situation before, having lost men during identical scenarios; the easiest thing had been to let them leave, but not before calling for back up.

Before Amelia had discovered Alfred's lifeless body at the foot of the stairs back at Wayne Manor, Jack had shoved a gun into Sarah's shaking hands and made her swear to keep it hidden, until it was needed.

Every step she took forward, Sarah wished desperately that she could go back, the look of betrayal on Amelia's face too much to bear.

They were on the fire exit stairs of Gotham General and with a brutal kick, Jack took down the door and it opened up into another ward.

The smell of disinfectant met them as they marched onto the ward, voices rose in terror as people fled from them, one by one each nurse, doctor and patient cowered down, terrified by the sight of this familiar clown and his hostages.

Jack gripped Amelia's hand and pulled her through the ward, kicking trolleys and equipment out of their path.

"Oh _look_ the Calvary is here," Jack muttered as two uniformed security guards appeared ahead of them in the corridor. Amelia heard Sarah shout something to them and she stared at her in horror as bullets flew through the air.

Amelia squeezed her eyes shut, unable to watch but breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that both of the men had dived for cover. Jack was giggling under his breath, a strained, muffled laugh through clenched lips and she realised that he still must be in agony.

The three of them bolted down another corridor which led to an outdoor fire exit.

"Come on ballerina," he motioned for her to climb out the window and she looked at him imploringly.

"Jack…you need help, _please_!" her eyes filled up, "How far do you think we are really going to get?"

Jack grabbed her face hard making her cry out in pain as he dug his nails into her flesh.

"It's _always_ a fight with you!" he snarled angrily, "Never any _fun_….always _resisting_. Just climb out of the god dam window before I throw you out!"

Weakly she nodded and climbed out of the window, her heels clattering on the metal stair case, the sun in her eyes as she tried to reach for the ladder. Jack followed and then Sarah was last of all.

With trembling hands, Amelia took the railing and began to climb down. There was a crack of gunfire and she screamed loosing her grip, someone had taken a shot at them from below. Amelia's foot slipped on the wrung and she heard Sarah scream as she lost her grip and fell down to the next platform, her body crashing on the metal below. Jack jumped the last couple of wrungs and hauled her to her feet, Amelia felt like she'd had the life knocked out of her and was struggling for breath.

"Is she alright?" Sarah called from above and Jack nodded.

"Hold your fire!" someone screamed from below, "He has hostages!"

Amelia looked over the railing, the light breeze in her hair and saw the crowd gathering below. A team of cop cars had arrived, not to mention a fire truck and a few ambulances.

Amelia looked at Jack, his face ashen. A blood stain was spreading across his mid section once again.

She touched his hand. "This has got to stop," she whispered and he shook his head.

"This way!" he said roughly once Sarah was on the platform with them. He broke into the nearest window, shattering the glass with a bullet, fragments splitting all around them.

He pulled Amelia through and she cried out as broken glass slid straight through the flesh on the top of her leg. Sarah followed closely behind, her legs almost numb.

Amelia's eyes widened in horror as she realised they'd climbed into the children's ward. To her relief it appeared that it had been evacuated, leaving nothing but eerie silence as they stormed through its brightly painted corridors.

"She's bleeding!" Sarah cried out and finally he relented. He turned and stared at Amelia and at the blood dripping from the cut on her leg.

The Joker whirled about the ward, ripping cupboards open, plundering through draws. He stopped abruptly and looked at Sarah pointing the knife at her.

"Go and make yourself useful petal!" he snarled, "Secure the entrance doors and block up all the fire exits…looks like we'll be here for sometime!"

Amelia, letting out a sigh of relief slid down the wall, leaving a trail of scarlet behind her. Her leg was on fire, the muscle throbbing.

Jack was on his knees in front of her, his arms full of what looked like hospital supplies, he dropped them all at the side of her and she noticed he was sweating. She reached out and pushed his heavy coat of his shoulders, her fingers trailing over his feverish skin.

"You're burning up," she said weakly, he ignored her.

"I'm hot stuff ballerina…what can I say?" he hissed as he began to rifle through the medical supplies, "You on the other hand are bleeding all over the floor,"

He pulled out a bandage, but first cracked open what looked like a bottle of disinfectant. He read the bottle quickly, and then poured the entire contents over the exposed wound on Amelia's leg.

She let out a wail, biting down on her lip hard, fighting the urge to strangle him.

"_You could have warned me_!" she yelled, her blue eyes wide in pain and horror. He gave her a little grin and promptly began to bandage up her leg.

"Then it wouldn't have been so funny," he licked his lips and ignored her angry, half dazed expression, "Ahh, sweetie, live a little,"

"Live?" she laughed at that, "That's what I have been trying to do, you keep getting in the way,"

He placed the palm of his hand against the wall, right by her face and she was unable to look anywhere but at his tired, paling eyes.

He sucked at the inside of his face and then planted a kiss right next to her mouth.

"You keep letting me get in the way, princess," he whispered into her hair and she folded her hand around his arm wearily, "Anyone would think you're just a little bit crazy about me?"

He pressed his forehead against hers and they sat that way for a moment, listening to the other breathing.

Amelia guessed he was half crazed with pain, not aware that what he had done was going to get them nowhere. There was nowhere left to go, the hospital was surrounded and at some point one of them was going to collapse and she had a feeling it would be him first.

She took his face in her hands, unaware that down the corridor, Sarah was watching them from the shadows, her heart wanting to break in two.

"Hopelessly," Amelia whispered and Jack looked up at her.

"Huh?"

"Hopelessly, crazy," she nodded, unable to stop the lump in her throat, "About you,"

He gave her a tired smile. "'bout time you admitted it to yourself,"

"Be serious," she hushed him, "You have to turn yourself in…if anything happened to you…"

He pulled away, suddenly. There was a crash at the end of the corridor and the double entrance doors to the ward crashed open with almighty force.

Amelia's heart lifted when she saw the figure standing in the doorway, his suit half torn away from his body. He staggered onto the ward, breathing hard and shallow, his steps lumbered with pain and exhaustion.

The Joker was on his feet an annoyed look on his face, his brows knitting together.

"Jeez!" he giggled throwing his hands in the air, "You don't _ever _quit do you?"

"Not when you're walking the streets Joker," Batman snarled, his voice tinged with fatigue, "Thanks for your little welcome at the apartment by the way!"

"I'm _flattered_, really," the Joker walked towards him pulling out his kitchen knife once again and Amelia cried out, trying to stand.

"Jack no!" she looked imploringly at Batman, "He's bleeding…"

Bruce noted the darkening stain spreading like an opening flower across the Joker's shirt front.

Sarah ran past them both, falling at Amelia's side, throwing her arms around her neck.

"I'm so sorry," she cried, "This is all my fault!"

Amelia shook her head. "Its ok…it's going to be ok. It has to be,"

"The building is locked down Joker," Batman tried to reason with him, "You aren't going anywhere. Let these women go,"

The Joker threw the knife from one palm to the other, a crazed smile playing on his lips.

"What does it take to get rid of you bats?" he grinned, "Anyone would think you're stalking me?"

"As long as you're here, I will be too," Batman said in a low voice, "Whatever you do, I'll be following you…I won't let you hurt these people anymore,"

The Joker took a step backwards; Batman took one closer to him. Suddenly the Joker moved so fast that Amelia couldn't keep up. He grabbed Sarah by the wrist and hurled her across the polished floor towards Batman, sending them both crashing to the ground. Jack hauled Amelia to her feet and dragged her backwards down the corridor. He kicked open a closed door, the room dark and threw her in, following, then he bolted it from the inside.

Hearing him breathing hard in the dark, Amelia fought to find a light switch, when she did, she couldn't help but let out a gasp. It was obviously a play room for the more able bodied children on the ward. The walls were decorated in hand drawn pictures by the children, artwork pinned up all over the place. Boxes of old, plastic toys were piled up in the corner, there was a small table and chairs and plenty of wingback chairs dotted across the room.

Pain swelled up her leg and she huddled into the corner, the door suddenly crashing with Batman's weight on the other side of it. Amelia stared wild eyed at Jack, who grasping his side in pain, his face white even without the makeup, collapsed in the corner by the pile of toys.

Amelia's eyes filled with tears and she staggered to the locked door.

"Bruce," she whispered through the door, her voice low, "Can you hear me?"

The banging ceased and she heard him clear his throat on the other side of the door.

She placed her palm on the door and heard his breathing.

"Yes," he whispered, "Are you alright?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, never in her life more relived to hear his voice.

"I'm Ok," she threw a look over at Jack who had sunk to the floor, "God I thought you were dead,"

"It was a close call,"

"You need to give us a minute," she said, her voice firm, "He'll come out, I promise. But you need to give us a minute?"

There was nothing but silence on the other side of the door and Amelia took that as an agreement. Trying to keep the weight off her bad leg she pulled herself across the floor and sat down next to him.

He lifted his head weakly and gave her a half smile. His face was crumpled and white, his eyes glassy from the pain he was in.

"You're still here?" he said and she wound her arm around his neck, cradling him to her chest. Her heart felt heavy with emotion, but she knew that for now she had to keep it in.

"Yes, I'm here," she whispered, "You know we can't stay in here don't you?"

He lifted his head and looked at her, his dark eyes so empty.

"I guess I have to go away now, huh?"

She nodded, her eyes filling up. "It was good while it lasted,"

"Really good," he agreed, trying to heave himself into a sitting position, "Uhh, that hurts,"

"I know," she supported him as he sat up, "You'll get better though,"

Their faces were inches apart and instead of kissing her, like she thought he would, he leaned closer to her ear, his lips brushing her skin. She drank in his scent, the warmth of his body close to hers, knowing it would be a long time before she would feel it again.

"You know this isn't over don't you?" he whispered, sending a shock down her spine, "Wherever you go, I'll _always_ find you,"

Amelia closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting his weak body fall against her. She hugged him tightly, a sob escaping her throat as he passed out in her arms.

"I'm counting on it Jack," she sobbed, "I'm counting on it,"

Amelia watched from the sidewalk as the man called The Joker was wheeled into an ambulance on a steel gurney. The ambulance was heading back to Arkham Asylum, and a crowd had gathered, applause rising from the air as the guards slammed the doors shut.

Amelia squeezed her eyes shut, letting the tears fall, their cat calls and angry cries making her heart break even more. She felt someone next to her, someone slipping their warm hand into hers and she looked up into Bruce's face.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly.

"It's going to be Ok," he whispered, smoothing her hair.

"How am I ever going to be Ok?" she shook her head, "Where do I even begin with being ok?"

Bruce nodded to the other side of the street. Sarah was sitting on the kerb, her knees pulled up to her chest, her face flushed and blotchy.

"Someone over there needs you," Bruce said, his voice low and sad, "And when someone needs you, you learn to be just ok. You learn to just get on,"

Amelia looked up at her best friend, the man she'd done nothing but fight with the last couple of weeks and squeezed his hand.

"I need _you_," she said smiling and he nodded.

"Then that's all I need," he smiled back and pushed her in Sarah's direction. Amelia folded her arms around herself as she approached the much younger woman. Sarah looked up, her eyes red from crying, her arms weak from trembling. She stood as Amelia got closer and burst into tears.

Amelia cuddled her tightly and Sarah cried into her shoulder.

"This is so messed up," she wailed, "How will you _ever_ trust me?"

Amelia laughed. "We can work on that,"

Sarah pulled away to look at her. "I don't deserve it, I let you down,"

Amelia nodded. "We all make mistakes…come on; lets get out of here,"

She took the younger girls hand. "Where are we going?"

Amelia smiled and thought about her father's old apartment and about how it was time that it had a new tenant, ready to make new, happy memories.

"We're going home," she said.


	20. Chapter 20

**Ok here it is, the ending. You should all know I'm very nervous about this as it has a twist that I have been promising some of you and I'm hoping very much you like it. Please let me know what you think. Once again thank you so, so much for all your great comments. They have really kept me going and I have loved every bit of writing this. Special thanks to Buffy sparrow, red kiwi, angelika04, affectionate-sinner, hayly-baby, purgatory nymphe, berl1719, rosedelion and gabijaluvs2rite. You have all made this such a pleasure.**

**So for now. Here. We. Go.**

**When she was Bad**

One year later

Amelia stalked down the stone steps of Gotham Preparatory Girls School, the enormous Victorian building casting its imposing shadow down over her. Her face was red and she felt stung after the abrupt meeting she'd just had with the school's fiery principal.

Sarah had been expelled. Again.

This was the fourth school that Sarah West had been thrown out of in the last year. Amelia felt ready to tear her hair out.

She marched towards the car, the sight of Sarah sitting there with her arms folded defensively making Amelia's stomach turn. How was it possible that she was almost afraid of a seventeen year old girl, her own sister?

Sarah glared up at her as Amelia slammed the car door shut. The younger girl had changed a lot in the past few months. Her looks, as Amelia had predicted had bloomed and she was no longer a short, slightly stocky teenager, but a strong and stunning looking young woman.

Amelia returned Sarah's glare. "You just can't keep your hands out of other people's things can you?" she snapped angrily and Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I put it back!" she said pouting, a new facial expression which Amelia had taken an instant disliking to.

"Don't you have enough jewellery?" Amelia cried, "With the allowance I give you, you could afford anything you wanted,"

Sarah folded her arms. "Look I'm sorry Ok?"

The driver pulled away, the countryside rolling past the limo window. Soon they would reach Gotham City.

"You say that, but you're not sorry at all!" Amelia grilled her, "Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was? This is the fourth school you've been expelled from this year!"

Sarah looked away, hating the look of disappointment on her older sister's face. She knew she should hate herself for what she did, but she just couldn't. The temptation to take things that didn't belong to her was almost, at times, overwhelming. It was like a fire in her belly that rose up whenever the challenge presented itself, her hand practically itching to get that item tucked away in her bag. Sarah was glad that Amelia didn't know about her other indiscretions at various boutiques dotted around Gotham.

The journey was silent and awkward, Sarah could feel Amelia's bad mood brewing.

"I forgot to tell you, we are having dinner at Bruce's tonight," she said suddenly, breaking the drumming silence. Sarah pulled a face but Amelia caught her.

"What was that for?" she said, exasperated.

"Its just…I hate going to that creepy old place with that old butler…and I always feel really awful about hitting him that time….do we have too?"

Despite her bad mood Amelia smiled. "Bruce is my oldest friend and I hardly get to see him these days. And seeing as I can't leave you by yourself without the police turning up, you have to come with me,"

They ignored each other for the remainder of the journey to their apartment on Millionaire's row in the city centre.

Amelia had to admit that at times she felt like she'd created a bit of a monster. The first few months of living together had been like bliss. Amelia had a little sister. A little sister, who'd she'd dressed in the best clothes, given her the most expensive makeup and shoes, like a perfect little doll. They went to dinner every night, they sat up till dawn chatting, watching old movies, like they'd been best friends all their lives. It was almost like having Rachel back in her life. The empty feeling that Jack had left behind was for now, temporarily filled. But Amelia quickly realised that she had a hormonal teenage girl on her hands and once school had factored into the equation, bliss had quickly turned sour. They fought day and night; Sarah was bitchy and rude, stropping around their apartment like she owned the place. Not to mention the stealing and the fighting. It was apparent that Sarah had a bad temper, one that blew up quickly and caused her to lash out. Amelia had lost count at the number of times a night out with the friends had turned into a brawl, where the police had been called.

Later that night Sarah was watching TV in the den, while Amelia sat at the kitchen counter with Bruce.

"I just don't know what to do with her!" she admitted, her hands curling around a glass of wine.

Bruce had loved seeing them together at first, but now Amelia looked tired and drawn. He could see how much she missed Jack and at first Sarah had almost been like a pet, a sticking plaster to mend a broken heart. Amelia hadn't been ready to be a Mother, which effectively what she was and it had shaken up her whole world.

"Why don't you talk to her?" Bruce suggested and Amelia stared at him like he'd grown a second head.

"Bruce I talk to her all the time!"

"No, you talk _at_ her," he corrected gently, "I think you've forgotten who this kid is and where she came from, _who_ she came from,"

Amelia let her shoulders droop. "Sometimes I look at her and it's like him looking straight back at me. I can't bear the thought that she might hate me,"

"She's crazy about you!" Bruce insisted, his hand warm on Amelia's shoulder, "But I think you've forgotten that this child came from the slums. She had nothing and now she has the world. It must be hard trying to fit into these posh prep schools, with these other rich kids, trying to be something she's not,"

Amelia went to hug him. "Why are you always right?"

He hugged her back. "I'm not,"

They looked at each other for a long time, the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. He still had that look in his eyes and she tried to ignore it. Bruce could have been the man of her dreams and she wished desperately that she could let him in.

But there was always someone else's face she saw before she closed her eyes at night.

Later that evening, when Sarah was getting ready for bed Amelia knocked gently on the door.

"Can we call a truce?" Amelia pushed the door open and Sarah, seated at her dressing table, stopped brushing her blonde curls.

Sarah quickly folded her arms across her chest as Amelia sat down on the bed opposite her.

"Look, I'm not perfect and maybe I have been going about this all wrong?" Amelia began seeing the furrowed look appear on the younger girl's face, "I just wanted you to have the best of everything, the best home, best clothes, best education…but you have never had the best of me,"

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I think we should go away," Amelia said, "Go travelling for a year or longer, just you and me. We should see the world and see it together. There's so much time for school and jobs, we both need to live first…"

There was a strained silence for a few moments, Sarah played with the handle of her hair brush.

"What do you think?" Amelia asked.

Sarah lifted her face and a smile was playing at the corner of her lips.

"I think…it's a great idea…wow..."

Amelia beamed and crossed the gap between them, taking the younger girl in her arms for a hug, for the first time in what seemed like months.

"I'll make some call tomorrow," Amelia gave her one last squeeze before walking off towards the door.

She closed it behind her but her heart wrenched in her chest her smile quickly fading.

Was she doing the right thing? Was this just another sticking plaster on an open wound?

Amelia knew that it mattered not, where she went, her heart stayed firmly put in Gotham; belonging to someone she was never going to see again.

////

This was the first time the Joker had ever had a visitor and the guards were a little twitchy. He'd been a good boy for the past six months. After seven months the doctor said they could take off his straight jacket. At eight months he was deemed fit enough to receive visitors, not that any ever came.

He just sat day and night in the Rec room, sitting quietly in a corner, humming tunelessly to himself, his eyes far away and empty. Since being in Arkham, the first few months he'd dropped weight dramatically, refusing to eat or drink until they had to hospitalise him to keep him alive.

Seeing as therapy had gone so badly the first time, his counselling was brief and infrequent. He was a lonely patient at Arkham, even the guards too afraid of him to speak to him, not that he ever spoke to anyone. His face, although free of the garish makeup that made him famous, was still intense and unnerving, his eyes boring into the guards as they passed him.

But today was a landmark day.

A young woman had arrived at the hospital and the place had literally been thrown into chaos.

They were given a private room and six guards, all heavily armed.

Jack sat blankly at the table in the centre of the room, his hands handcuffed at the wrists. He didn't know or care who his visitor was, he just enjoyed the show that the guards were putting on, so obviously all afraid of him and intrigued at the same time.

The door opened and a guard came through followed by a young blonde. It took him a few moments to register her serious face, her eyes so dark like his, but he gave her a slow smile as she sat down in front of him.

He hadn't seen his little sister in a year and he was taken back at how much she'd changed. Her once dirty blonde hair was platinum, curling in waves like a model, her skin was pale and flawless and her lips were bright red.

She was wearing a black shift dress, with a crisp white shirt underneath, showing off her curves and he gave her an approving nod as she sat down.

"I see you have a fondness for red lipstick too…just like me," he grinned, revealing his familiar crazed smile.

Sarah wanted to hug him; he looked so pale and thin.

"You look awful!" she choked, her eyes filling up.

"Thanks!"

"I didn't mean it like that….its just a shock, you know?"

Jack leaned his cuffed hands on the table, realising that he hadn't spoken out loud to someone in a very long time.

"What do I owe this pleasure?" he asked slowly.

"I'm running away," she announced, her chin firm and he wanted to laugh at her.

"Really?" he snickered, "Did you pack a lunch?"

"I'm being serious Jack," she said her face flushing, "I wanted to come and say goodbye,"

He looked at her for a long time, seeing his own mirror image in some of her facial expressions. And still she was so perfect, like a little work of art.

"May I ask why you're leaving?" he said lazily and she shrugged.

"I just can't live this life Jack," she said simply, "I love Amelia and she has done so much for me, but I can't ignore what I am. I can't be who she wants me to be…"

"Hmm," he mused, "Sounds a little…_ungrateful_,"

"I know," she hung her head; "I won't go back to another rich kids school and pretend to be like them, I'm not. I keep letting her down…I got expelled again,"

"_Again_!" he laughed, "Don't you think you should give your big sister a chance?"

"I've tried," she held up her chin defiantly, "But I want more. Now she wants to take me away…but I need to get out on my own. I need to do things by myself…I need to fight my own battles, find my own way,"

Jack scratched his chin, his eyes darting from her to the floor.

She continued. "I've got some money saved. I'm going away for a while…"

"Money!" he spat, his face suddenly angry, "You mean her money don't you?"

Sarah backed away, guilt written all over her face.

"Look you can hate me all you want but I'm not changing my mind….besides it's not me she wants…"

He looked down at his cuffed wrists. "How is she anyway?" came the question Sarah knew he'd been dying to ask.

Sarah shrugged. "She's miserable and alone," her lips lifted in a smile, "She could do with some fun in her life,"

They let the words hang in the air between them. Finally Sarah stood up and he did the same. The guard stepped closer as she went to embrace him and she shot the guard a thunderous look.

"I'm only going to hug him!" she snapped at the guard, who stepped away.

Sarah folded her arms under his, slowly, deliberately running her hands up his arms. Finally she squeezed him tight and pecked him on the cheek.

"I just want the two people I love most in the world to be happy," she whispered as she pulled away, briefly meeting his dark eyes.

She walked away, past the guard at the desk and the Joker watched her leave.

"Wait Miss…" the guard called, "You didn't sign out,"

"Oh, yes, sorry," she smiled, leaning across the guard and scribbling on the book in front of him. She looked back over her shoulder and gave her older brother a smile, watching with a heavy heart as he was escorted away back to his cell.

Once back in the privacy of his cell, Jack let the knife slip from his shirt sleeve and into his hands. His clever little sister, she really was like him.

He stared down at it with wonder, a smile playing across his scared lips. There was a note tapped to the hilt of the blade and hurriedly he tore it off, opening it out into the palm of his hand.

_By the way, I'm changing my name, so don't bother trying to find me. It seems everyone including my own Mother changed their name at some point so I'm just following the trend. Use this wisely and don't get caught, she's waiting for you. Look for my name one day, because you'll see it in the papers. I know we are going to have so much fun together some day, love Sarah xxx_

_////_

One Month Later

Amelia pulled the dust sheet over the last piece of furniture and stared around her at the piled up cardboard boxes. Everything was labelled and ready to be put into storage. Her heart felt heavy as she pulled herself around the apartment, which up until a few months ago had finally been a happy place. For a while the ghosts of her past had been quietened and she had her own family.

But Sarah was gone, leaving nothing behind her but a note.

In a way Amelia had known on some level that it couldn't have lasted. Sarah was a wild card and she had her own demons to work out. Amelia wished that she knew where she was but had a very strong suspicion that the girl would be fine, she was strong and had survived so far.

But it didn't stop Amelia from feeling so empty. The night Sarah had vanished, Amelia had sobbed until she couldn't see straight, her own self pity washing over her, leaving her feeling exhausted and dull.

Now all she had left was an empty home and two tickets for a trip across the globe.

Trudging upstairs to the ballroom, Amelia blinked at the bright sunlight that lit the magnificent room.

She stood in the middle of the room and closed her eyes. She remembered Jack, sixteen years old and so handsome; even then, he'd stolen her heart. He'd loved her and protected her even then.

Amelia paced the room until she realised that she was torturing herself with memories, with things that could never be. Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket and she quickly read the message, it was from Bruce saying he would pick her up at four to take her to the airport. She remembered the look on his face when she had told him that she was still going away, he'd looked so crushed and miserable. But she knew that in her heart she was doing the right thing, the need to be away from Gotham was overwhelming

Taking a few large picture frames in her arms, she lifted the heavy weight was unprepared for the sight of the figure standing in the stairwell. She screamed and dropped the pictures, the glass from the frames shattering around her feet.

"Opps," Jack giggled, scratching his head, "Hope they weren't originals,"

"Jack…" the words caught in her throat and his face was serious as he crossed the room towards her and swept her up in his arms.

The paint on his face was still wet from where he'd hurriedly smeared it on but she didn't care. She laughed in delight, kissing his face, getting coated in red and white, kissing his mouth hard. She squeezed him so tightly, feeling giddy with happiness, gasping as he kissed her back.

When she finally pulled away she closed her eyes.

"This isn't real!" she covered her eyes with her hands, "Your not here. I was thinking about you and you're here!"

Jack gave her a wide grin, unpinning her hands from her eyes.

"Well you can thank our little sister for that," he laughed, "She paid me a little visit before she departed…and here I am!"

Amelia narrowed her eyes at him. "How did you get out?"

Jack held up his hands. "I didn't kill anyone I promise….well that may not be entirely true in the case of the guard on reception…"

Amelia covered her ears. "No I don't want to hear it!" she grinned up at him, "You're here that's all I care about….I never thought I would ever see you again,"

Jack folded his arms behind his back, his eyes wandering over the ballroom.

"Looks like you're shutting up shop?"

Amelia shrugged. "I'm going away for a while. I've got that world trip to go on, I was meant to be going with Sarah…"

Jack tutted. "I know that _ungrateful_ little shrew. So you'll go all by yourself?"

Amelia smiled and folded her arms. "I think it's about time I got away by myself,"

He began to pace and Amelia watched him, every part of her alive with happiness. She had missed him so much.

"You know I was thinking ballerina…I could do with a tan myself, what do you think?" he said taking her hands and pulling her around the ballroom in a kind of crazy dance.

She laughed. "We can't do that! You're a wanted criminal…how can you just give up that life to be with me?"

He took her face in his hands and pulled her against him.

"I wasn't talking about forever…but for now. I keep telling you ballerina, live for _now_!"

Amelia closed her eyes. "Where would we go?"

"Anywhere that has a bar…the desert if you wanted…_I don't care_! I think it's about time you realised that I'm a little bit…hopelessly, crazy…about you,"

She kissed him and drank him in, not wanting to let go.

This wouldn't last; she knew that in her heart, eventually they would be brought back to Gotham with a nasty bump, reality catching up with them. But for now, could she really just live in the moment?

"Yes," she answered her own silent question, "My answer is yes,"

She opened her eyes and he was grinning at her.

"Good answer…although I don't actually remember giving you a choice…"

She punched his shoulder. "Shut up,"

"Now, now," he pulled her against him, whirling her around the dance floor.

"So surely we should get going?" Amelia was impatient, "After all you've just broken out of Arkham, wont they be after you?,"

He pulled her closer and pressed his mouth to hers, his kiss soft instead of the bruising ones he usually landed on her.

He smiled against her mouth.

"Somebody is always chasing me," he told her, "But if you would kindly oblidge, I want to finish that dance, the one we started a long time ago,"

Amelia smiled up at him, absorbed into this madness, forgetting everything else but him, ignoring the ache in her heart that kept telling her that soon, he would tire of her and once more, she would be alone.

////

**Puket, Thailand**

The streets were littered with people in the heavy afternoon sun. Sarah wiped her brow, her feet sore from the miles she'd tracked across town from the bus station.

Her clothes were sticking to her, her body clammy and she longed for a shower. She had known that her life would be like this and she had quickly got used to sleeping on a fold out cot, although a year living in a penthouse with her sister had spoiled her.

She pushed past the market crowd, strangers grabbing her, wanting her to try their wares, little children hassling her for money.

There was a building up ahead and breathlessly Sarah looked down at her map and smiled, relief spreading through her.

She tracked up the steps of the building and was inside a dimly lit room, it looked like another one of the hostels she'd stayed in but Sarah was here for other purposes than just to sleep.

A woman sat behind the desk and didn't look up as she approached.

"Yes," she barked.

"Oh…I'm here for the training programme.." Sarah looked over her shoulder, lowering her voice, "I'm here to see Mr Lin,"

The receptionist glared up at her, her small dark eyes almost laughing at her.

"We don't allow women on the training programme, little girl," she snapped and Sarah took out her back pack.

She took out a brown paper envelope and revealed its contents to the little, snappish woman.

"These are special circumstances," Sarah told her firmly, "And I've spoken to Mr Lin a number of times. Trust me; I'm booked on this training,"

The woman stared at her for a long time, and then shrugged.

"I call him," she said reaching for the telephone. Sarah smiled and looked about the shabby reception hall, knowing that this was going to be a far cry from the luxury she had become used to. But she came from nothing, from a town that was no better than hell and she had survived that, so this was going to be a walk in the park.

"Name?" the woman spat at her suddenly, bringing Sarah out of her daydream.

"Oh sorry…my name is Selina," she said, liking the sound of her new alias on her lips, "Selina Kyle,"

The End

**AHHHH. I'm so sad that's over. I hope you all liked the twist. I don't think this is the end of the story and I'm thinking about another sequel. Please review and tell me what you thought. And thank you again for all of you who have been so supportive! xxx**


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